


Not a Disney song

by LostMe



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: English is not my native language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not sure everything in this could be considered consensual, Just one take on the Beauty and the Beast, Major character death - Freeform, Multi, OOC Lucifer - Freeform, OOC Mazikeen, The Beast kind of dies too..., alternative meetings, be aware of not really sexy sexytimes, but I don't think that will be a problem, corrections are appreciated, it's explicit for a reason though, oocs everywhere - Freeform, proceed with care, tags will be added as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-01 02:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 45,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13285467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMe/pseuds/LostMe
Summary: When the murder of a famous singer was assigned to Chloe Decker, she was well aware that she needed to convince one of the most powerful women of LA, Mazikeen Smith -codename Queen of Pleasure - that she deserved a meeting with one Lucifer Morningstar - codename the Devil - a man so powerful and recluse as to be considered an urban legend meant to scare mafia bosses. She thought that was the hard part. It was quite easy, actually.





	1. No garden of roses

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. As I said in the tags, english is not my native language, so it is pretty much an exercise in creative writting. Please feel free to point any (or the numerous) mistakes you may find. I'm actually quite excited about this one, so I hope some of you may find it interesting as well. Thanks for hitting it!

It was a normal week. She woke up at the usual time, made a cup of coffee. She cooked breakfast for her daughter. She took her daughter to school at the normal time all the week. She went to work and spent her days doing paperwork. In the middle of it, the body of a famous singer was found in a dumpster. Such a normal week. Until, of course, the case of such singer was assigned to her. She didn’t have a case so big since Palmetto Street. She didn’t hope to get one in a very long time yet. She didn’t even have a partner anymore! Yes, from there, things just spiraled further.

 “What?” She asked for the fourth time.

“I didn’t know you were deaf, detective.” The Lt. told her.

“Mr. Morningstar may very well be the last person to see Delilah alive. We need his testimony”.  Dan, her ex-husband, said, again.

“I’ve already heard that. But Lucifer Morningstar? Codename _The Devil_? The guy that even the mafia bosses are indebted to? The one that no one has ever seen? Come on, do we ever know if the guy is real?” Detective Decker asked, incredulous.

“Either he is real, or he is an over-elaborated lie that needs to be uncovered to solve this murder.” The Lt. said.

“This is what we got on him.” Dan said, passing her a file.

Chloe sighed but took the papers. A copy of his driver license, birth certificate… Just the usual documents a person needs to exist. All dated from the previous five years.

“This guy didn’t exist five years ago.” She said.

“Not under his actual name, no. And nobody knows where he came from, or how he constructed his empire so fast.” Dan replied.

“Maybe on his good looks?” Chloe asked half joking when she inspected the picture in his driving license. Whoever that man was, he was stunning.

“However he did it, she was involved.” The Lt. said, extending the picture of another, more seen figure. “This is Mazikeen Smith, popularly known as the Queen of Pleasure, or the shortened version, Queen. Whatever business involving Mr. Morningstar name, she is at it.”

“She runs a piano bar here in Los Angeles. She is there every night. That is why we need you.” Dan said, clearly annoyed by that.

“Come on, do you want me to seduce her? HER? ME?” Chloe asked, incredulous.

“I know it sounds silly when you say that like it…” Dan started but was interrupted by the Lt.

“Course not, Dan tried it last night. It was a disaster.”

Chloe opened her mouth to protest that Dan wasn’t exactly a perfect example of a womanizer but then opted to let it slide.

“It won’t work, anyway. That woman earned her nickname.” Dan said and just when Chloe was going to ask what he meant by that he continued. “All we want is to you to dress up, go to the club and try to blend in. Maybe ask some questions around. “

“Have you two tried the sensible thing and flashed your badge to her and asked to talk to Mr. Morningstar?” Chloe asked.

“Yes. She laughed at our faces.” Dan replied and that was it. Chloe was going to a piano-bar tonight, try to blend in. How terrific.

____

Mazikeen certainly was an easy figure to find and a very difficult one to entertain. Chloe looked at her from a distance and saw her giving just half a minute of her time for every guy, or woman, that approached her. She seemed vaguely interested at the beginning until she would either look completely bored or would curl a finger in their clothes and walk with them behind a door that was kept closed. One time Chloe was near enough to see it was a small office, mainly occupied by a monstrously big red sofa. They stayed there from two to fifteen minutes, after the time Mazikeen would return with a completely spotless appearance, while her companion would appear completely wrecked – so well fucked they had difficulty walking. Chloe was at Lux for two hours and had already seen Mazikeen rejected about fifty people and drag five men and two women behind that door. Yes, Chloe, good job blending in and asking questions. She was just pondering about her inefficiency when a bartender left a drink on her table.

“I didn’t ask this.” She said.

“Courtesy of the Queen.” The bartender said.  Chloe raised her eyes just in time to see that woman looking straight at her. Mazikeen then smirked and motioned Chloe to come near. The detective sighed and then stood to do just that. What was the worst that could happen?

“And who would you be, officer?” The woman asked.

Knowing her cover was somehow busted, Chloe answered.

“I’m detective Chloe Decker, LAPD.”

“Oh, another one. And what do you want, detective?”

“I wish to talk to Mr. Morningstar.”

“What about?”

“I’m investigating Delilah’s murder.”

Mazikeen Smith had the audacity to smirk at her.

“Are you here to try to gain my favors, like the last one?”

“I only wish to talk to Mr. Morningstar, if he is even real. It is an easy affair. I ask some questions, he answers and I go way.”

Mazikeen looked up for some seconds, took a deep breath and then said:

“You appear to be lucky today, detective. Mr. Morningstar will see you. Come with me.”

And with those words, the woman stood up and walked away. Chloe followed her. They entered into an elevator that took them to a very luxuriously decorated penthouse. One young woman was already seated in the orange sofa, one young man was coming out from one secluded room and one ridiculously hot woman was just waiting to enter the room.

“You may sit down. He usually does not see more than three people each night, be happy. Do try to be quick when your time comes, he is rather upset about Delilah. And know that we are video and audio recording the whole of the penthouse. As I’ve already warned them, Mr. Morningstar has suffered third-degree burns on over sixty percent of his body. He won’t mind if you stare, but will if you try to pretend not to. There is no way to do that anyway unless you avoid looking at him. Don’t do that or you will not be getting any favors. If you end in bed with him, know he is a generous lover even with limited movements as he is now, but will not tolerate any kind of pretending on your part.”

“What? I’m not here to…” Chloe tried to interrupt but Mazikeen raised one finger and kept going on.

“Don’t start something you will not finish and be very clear about what you want or don’t want. His skin is as healed as it will get and usually dry, fluids in strange places are ointment and he does not have anything contagious. You can touch him, but avoid using either your nails or your teeth over the burns. Take any jewelry out. Do not touch his upper back and avoid pulling the hair on the left side of his head.” She stopped for some seconds, and then said, in a smaller voice. “Do not lie to him, even about silly things.”

Before Chloe said anything they heard a shout coming from the room.

“YOU WILL NEVER HAVE ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY WITH A WOMAN LIKE ME!”

And just like that the woman from before, although with significantly less clothing, stomped in the direction to the elevator.

“Well, I did warn her. Wait here.” With those words, Mazikeen left, poured two doses of whiskey that she gave the woman and said. “You may go now, Faith. Give him one of the glasses. ”

The woman, Faith, took the drinks and entered the room. Five minutes later, she was going out. Shaking like a leaf and hugging one empty glass into her chest.

“I… Shall I come back next week?” The girl asked.

“Did he tell you to?” Mazikeen asked, clearly bored already.

The girl nodded. Mazikeen then rolled her eyes and dismissed the girl. She then turned to Chloe.

“Go. Be quick.”

____

If Chloe Decker weren’t so shocked by the array of sexual advisements she had received, maybe she would have paid more attention at the ‘third degree burns over sixty percent of his body’ part and wouldn’t be so shocked upon seeing the man’s face. Or what should be the face of that so very handsome man she had seen in that driver license earlier. The elegant arch of his nose, his defined jawline, the dark and thick hair, the manicured stubble over his cheeks… All of that was there, only… Less than she expected. Half of it, to be exact. Because on half of his face, on the whole of the left side, where bronzed skin should be, she could see only burned flesh. On the left of his scalp, she could also see the spots where his hair thinned, in stark contrast to the rich hair on the rest of it. His right eye was sparking with what could pass as genuine amusement if not for the strange light of the other one. It was glowing from within, almost in a red hue. She wondered if it was made of glass.

“Mr. Morningstar, thank you for accepting to meet me. I’m detective Chloe Decker from LAPD and I’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Lucifer, please.” The man said, without standing from his armchair, the half-smile that his half face allowed him never wavering.

“Excuse me?” She asked, uncertain.

“You may call me Lucifer, Detective Decker.” He replied.

“Ok, I’m here because…”

“Because you are investigating Delilah’s murder. I want the culprit found and punished, Detective. In what can I help you?” He asked, somehow producing a whole and a totally false smirk on what should be a half immobile month. She shuddered.

“How was your relationship with her?”

“Hm, how explicit an answer do you require?”

Chloe took a deep breath and started again.

“When was the last time you’ve seen her?”

“Last Sunday.”

“Where?”

“Here, of course.”

“She came seeking for you then? Why?”

“She wanted her soul back.”

Chloe gasped for some seconds and then tried to wrap her mind around that statement.

“She worked here four years ago. Sometimes she sang while I played. I arranged for her to record with Jimmy Barnes and she left to be a star.” Lucifer continued, lifting both a healthy right hand and a left appendage that could have looked like a hand once upon a time, but now resembled a burned and raw claw. “When her life wasn’t what she dreamed of she came back to ask me to set her free.”

Lucifer said that still smiling, but finally lowered his eyes.

“What does that mean? Was she feeling trapped? What did she owe you for her career?”

“Nothing, Detective. She never had anything besides her voice to offer me. I liked her voice.” And then his smirk also dropped.

“So you never asked anything back? Is that common in your deals?” Chloe asked, incredulous. Mr. Morningstar was somewhat famous because of the deals he would offer. Nobody knew how, but the man was surprisingly well-connected and clever and seemed to be able to achieve whatever the person wanted, with a cost, of course. Usually a high cost.

The man in front of her changed again, turning deep serious, almost business-like.

“I asked her to put herself together. As I said, I liked her voice.”

“So since she left four years ago you had never put a price for your favor?”

“No.”

“Is it common in your deals? To just do what the person wants?”

“When I don’t know what I want back, yes. I always can choose what I want later.”

“And who would ever accept a deal like that?”

“They all do.” Lucifer replied, reaching his half-empty whiskey dose.

In that moment Chloe could understand why someone would feel like they had sold their souls to that man for a favor. Or why he was known by ‘the Devil’, after all.

“The people from before… What did they…”

“Do they have anything to do to Delilah’s murder?” Lucifer asked, smiling that bizarre half smile again.

No, they didn’t. And so Chloe snapped her mouth shut.

“Delilah came here because her life was collapsing. I had nothing to do with that and there was nothing I could have done for her at the time. Now she is dead. I’d be very glad if you would find the culprit and punish him accordingly.”

“I…”

“Do call me if there is anything you may need.”

Taking it for the dismissal it clearly was, Chloe thanked him for his time and turned to leave. Lucifer’s voice interrupted her.

“Delilah left Jimmy Barnes in the altar one month ago. He will marry a supermodel this weekend. How fast a human heart heals itself, doesn’t it?”

____

Jimmy Barnes accepted to talk to her the next day but was as uncooperative as they came. Apparently, he didn’t want to talk about his ex and needed to focus on his marriage. He did, however, give her Delilah’s ex-boyfriend name, who gave no information at all until she threatened to arrest them all for drug traffic, and then he gave her a name: Dr. Linda, on Beverly Hills. Who was easy enough to find, but tight-lipped as only a professional psychologist would be. And that was kind of it? She has hit a dead end. Just like at Palmetto Street. And then Trixie got into a fight in school and she had to go there to solve things and pick her girl up, which somehow led to a discussion with Dan, that resulted in her daughter spending the night with him. She had just reached her home, after some hours more in the precinct, when her phone buzzed with a text message from an unknown number.

‘ _Come have a drink at Lux. There is some garbage for you to collect at the penthouse_.’

Trixie was with Dan for the night, and thinking that at least she would get a free drink out of the ordeal, she turned around and drove to Lux, getting into the penthouse without any problem, where she found a very frightened Jimmy Barnes, gagged and tied to a chair. With Mazikeen hovering over him, a 15 inches clad foot over his chest and a (probably) loaded gun on her hand.

“The hell?” Chloe asked, drawing her gun and aiming at Mazikeen.

“Exactly, Detective.”

Chloe turned around in surprise, after hearing that deep voice. Mr. Morningstar – Lucifer something inside of her corrected her thoughts - was seated in yet another high and cushioned chair, looking at the proceedings with a somewhat amused expression. Half in the shadows, half in the light, his glass eye appeared to be alight.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Ooooh, things would certainly be different if we were in hell.” Mazikeen commented, but Chloe was somewhat captivated by Lucifer’s presence.

“That man is Jimmy Barnes. He is Delilah’s murderer. Since I’m unable to, please punish him accordingly.” The man said, closing his eyes and exhaling tiredly.

Chloe was searching for the right words to describe that situation when Mazikeen interrupted her.

“Lucifer? Do you want anything?”

Not _need_ anything, Chloe noticed.

“I liked Delilah's voice. Now it is gone.” He said, as though as he was in pain. Maybe he was.

“You can’t just go kidnapping people!” Chloe finally snapped.

“Of course we can.” Mazikeen murmured. Just when Chloe opened her mouth to inform them all they were under arrest, Mr. Morningstar interrupted her.

“This man walked here with the gun that Maze is currently holding. He accused me of ruining his life and tried to murder me. Maze surrendered him and took his gun. She then proceeded to call the police.” He said, pointing to her with one empty glass, as though she was his personal police officer. “I do believe we did just the right thing while solving your case on the way”.

“Mr. Morningstar, do you have any proof of what you are saying?”

“My word is my bond, detective.” He said. But half a second after, he completed, waving his good hand to the ceiling. “I do have the video and sound recordings, though.”

“I will need them. And you are not allowed to leave the city until second order.”

Mazikeen actually growled after hearing her. But Lucifer dismissed her as if saying that they weren’t going anywhere, after all.

“You may want us to do some editing before sending it to you, maybe.” He said.

“I need the original video, immediately, Mr. Morningstar.”

“Naughty girl.” He said, and then promptly closed his eyes. “Call me Lucifer.”

“You may go now, detective. Please do take the garbage with you.” Mazikeen said, with a fierce look in her eyes that brought no arguments. Chloe arched one eyebrow and after a minute of glaring at each other Mazikeen approached a camera over her head and took the memory stick out, which she gave Chloe with a smirk on her face.

“Enjoy.” She said, prolonging the word suggestively while lifting a scarred eyebrow.

Chloe shook her head and took the gag of Barnes’ mouth. The man promptly began to scream for her to take him away from there, yelling over and over again “He is the Devil”.

Once at the precinct, the man confessed easily enough, terrified of Lucifer coming after him if he was anywhere besides the prison. That actually raised more questions than Delilah’s murder ever had.

“You just got a new case, Detective Decker. Discover with what did Mr. Morningstar threaten Jimmy Barnes, and how he expected to carry on. I highly doubt it would be legal.” The Lt. said, and just like that, Mr. Morningstar became Chloe’s business. Lucky her she had a head start.   


	2. A prisioner of your own making

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I may or may not have took many liberties about what one can or cannot see on a video recording... And I will probably keep at it for a chapter more... Sorry about any inconsistencies...

It was late enough when Chloe arrived at her home and took a shower before opening her laptop and started to see what was recorded on the memory stick she arranged a copy of at the precinct. In the memory stick, she could see three folders, one for that day and one for the two previous days. She clicked on the video of that same day and waited. The video recorded sounds as well, and quality enough for her to discern several details on the penthouse. Additionally, as the penthouse had no doors in between the rooms with the apparent exception of the restroom, the angle actually allowed her to see pretty much the whole of the apartment. Absolutely nothing happened all the morning, and so she speeded the video up until some movement caught her eye. Around the middle of the afternoon, Mazikeen entered the penthouse to gently wake Lucifer up. And apparently, he did need help in that regard. The man was stiffly lying in bed, surrounded by dark sheets. They both appeared all too used to the routine they fell into. The woman known as the Queen of Pleasure, probably one of the five most powerful women on the city, gently untangled him from the sheets. In that moment, Chloe realized for the first time what could it mean for a man like Lucifer Morningstar to have two-thirds of his body in deep scars. He was a stunning man, who clearly put a lot of effort on his appearance for a very long time. His body was lean and well sculpted but marred by deep burn scars that appeared to engulf him. Part of his head, the left side of his face and neck, the whole of his left arm, shoulders and chest, part of his left side and leg… How much of his back?

Mazikeen then started to clean both whole and scarred skin with what appeared to be a sponge she regularly soaked on a basin she also brought with her. She then gently, so very carefully, dried him, applied some kind of lotion on bits of his skin and dressed him in a tight suit that certainly should be very uncomfortable on him, considering his lack of mobility and scars. The way she helped him to get up and walk to a stuffed chair (one of many scattered around the penthouse, she noted) spoke of care and love, and also of a deep dependency on his part. His left leg barely moved.  It was clear to Chloe in that moment that that man could do very little for himself, least at all threaten someone else. Maybe it was Mazikeen the person Barnes was afraid of? But no, it was Lucifer’s name he kept repeating.

“Amenadiel should burn.” Mazikeen hissed, seemingly out of the blue.

“Wouldn’t it be rather ironic? Very amusing to watch.”

“Why didn’t you let me slice his throat then?”

Lucifer opted to ignore the question. Some minutes later Mazikeen spoke again like she wasn’t plotting murder five minutes ago.

“Do you want to see anyone tonight?”

“They come every night, always needing more and more. It’s exhausting.” He said, in lieu of an answer.

“And yet you keep giving them more than they deserve and getting so very little in return.”

“I don’t hope you to understand.”

“I just… You seem unsatisfied at late.”

Lucifer stayed silent until he extended his burned hand to pull Mazikeen’s head to his own lap.

She went easily enough (Chloe doubted he had the strength to force her, anyway) and then she proceeded to uncover the skin she had just covered over his stomach.

Even over the slightly grained image of the video, Chloe could see perfectly well when Lucifer closed his eyes and relaxed on his chair. Of course the video didn’t have either the angle or the zoom for Chloe to be able to see what Mazikeen was really doing (should she even be seeing that part of the video?) but she could picture the way Mazikeen was slowly licking Lucifer’s scarred skin in her brain, how totally unperturbed and familiar she was with the motion: how she should already be used to the taste and texture of it, how she avoided the areas in which she had applied lotion but focused on the scars, how she left his open shirt on while opening the fly of his trousers, how she moved fluidly against him even if he barely moved while the Queen of Pleasure gave him a surprisingly long and gentle blowjob. How he barely reacted. Was he even able to feel anything besides pain? And then, many minutes after they started, Lucifer let a deep exhale out and melted against the cushions supporting his back. And Mazikeen moaned like it was she who had climaxed instead of him. 

Chloe only had time to blink before Mazikeen stood, took her underwear out without moving her tiny skirt, climbed on Lucifer’s lap and started moving like she was getting the best fuck of her life. Hell, maybe she was, although Chloe could not imagine how that man could still be hard. She was going to rationalize if she was even allowed to have that thought when Mazikeen moaned again and then stilled over him.

“This world is not taking care of you.” Lucifer murmured, caressing her clothed left side with his right hand.

“It is not kind to you either. Even so, you keep giving them all they ask for.”

“Are you contesting my will?”

 “I only exist to protect and entertain you. I haven’t forgotten it, master.”

She resumed moving then, but she kept looking at Lucifer’s face with concerned eyes, while he kept his closed. Chloe was so transfixed by the scene in front of her that she didn’t notice how many minutes passed. Lucifer either didn’t come or didn’t react to it, because suddenly Mazikeen stood from his lap, walked over the bed, picked up the basin and the sponge and came back to kneel at Lucifer’s feet. She quietly cleaned him up and adjusted his clothing. Without cleaning herself or even righting her clothes, Mazikeen served him a drink.

“You know I don’t appreciate games, Mazikeen. Say what you want to say.” Lucifer said.

“I think we should go back.”

“Are you agreeing with Amenadiel?”

“Of course not…”

“Go do something useful.”

“Yes, Sir.”

And just like that, she picked her underwear from the floor and left.

Chloe stared for some seconds, but when nothing happened for a whole minute the apparent spell she was into broke and she got her bearings again. And noticed that her right hand was slowly caressing her already soaking wet entrance, the barrier of her thick pajamas all that was between her and what would be a phenomenal orgasm if she kept going. What she didn’t, because of… Because of a really good reason, certainly.

Many deep breaths and a promise to just skip further scenes of the more sexy type later, Chloe was finally able to resume her attempt to gather proofs. That is, to continue watching the footage.

And to her relief (or disappointment, she wasn’t certain) nothing happened in that video recording for the rest of the afternoon and beginning of the night. Really nothing. Lucifer just… Lucifer just stayed on that armchair, rolling the empty glass on his healthy hand. No food, no water, no restroom, for the whole day. Chloe actually didn’t know what to think about the situation. Firstly, it appeared that Mazikeen was some kind of a sexual slave of Lucifer’s but…  Maybe it was just an elaborate mental game to manipulate him? To have access to his money? Because if that man could barely move… Leaving him alone and stranded in that armchair… It was neglect. Maybe he was just another victim in this story? What brought to mind the question of his burns… Something like that… What could have caused then without killing him? It was already almost ten p.m. when Mazikeen came back. But instead of tending to him like a normal human being she just poured him a new drink in a clean glass and handed it to him.

“What, have I done something wrong?” She asked when he didn’t immediately take it.

“I’m sure you did. Care to share?” He asked, finally taking the glass while handing her the glass he held the whole day.

“Let’s say there was a lady in distress in a grievous need of an orgasm… I had to go to her rescue.”

“And it was so urgent because…”

“Well… She was going to enter a contract that stated that if she was unfaithful she would get nothing out of her marriage so… I thought about the unfairness of a pleasure-less life and had to help.” She answered, shrugging.

“So… You went to Jimmy’s wedding and… What? Had sex with his fiancé on the altar? In front of the whole audience?” Lucifer asked. Somehow Chloe could detect a smile on his face.

“Well… Not exactly. I got on the altar to ask him some questions… When he didn’t answer I asked her instead. If sex with that homunculus was so good to marry him, you know? She said that she didn’t have an orgasm since beginning seeing him so… How could I deprive her of it? I just touched her over her dress and… Well, that’s it. Actually, I think I gave the priest a boner.”

“I see… Very productive day.” Lucifer answered, before draining his glass.

“Oh… Jimmy was furious. It was glorious. I think he may be on his way. I took the liberty to free his entrance with the staff downstairs.”

“Very well. Fetch me an apple, would you?”

Mazikeen did just that.

“The fiancé should be here any day soon, now that her wedding failed.” The Queen continued.

“I’m sure it is only fair that she knows what a real male company is.” Lucifer murmured around his bite of the apple.

“You’re as far from reality as they come, Lucifer.”

“Terrible pun, Maze. Terrible.”

They were interrupted by the elevator opening and a livid Jimmy Barnes’ entrance. And he was holding a gun. Very well.

“You’ve ruined my wedding! Again!” He yelled.

“I have nothing to do with the first time.” Both Lucifer and Mazikeen said in unison.

“The hell you both have nothing to do with it!” Barnes shouted while training the gun to Lucifer’s chest.

“What a precise choice of words…” Lucifer wondered. “Tell me, you little rat. What is it you desire?”

The video trembled and shifted and then resumed its previous astonishing quality.

“To make you pay.” Barnes said, almost in a trance. He then trained his gun to Mazikeen.

“I know you only follow orders. So I will aim to the head.” He said and promptly aimed at Lucifer again. And shot at Lucifer’s chest. One time, two, three. It was Mazikeen who prevented him to shot the fourth time by yanking the gun from his hand and… Holding him by the neck over her own head with her other hand.

“You dare to …” Mazikeen started to roar but was interrupted by Lucifer’s voice.

“Jimmy… Why did you kill Delilah?”

“She… She owed me everything! She…” Barnes said, still in the air.

“The sells must have skyrocketed after her murder… Did you own the rights?” Mazikeen asked, almost with glee.

“SHE OWED YOU NOTHING!” Lucifer roared from his place still in the armchair. Yep. Actually roared. “SHE WAS HER OWN PERSON, WITH HER OWN VOICE! And now it is gone…”

Somehow the static corrupted badly the video, and then, two seconds later, Mazikeen was releasing a stammering mess of a once man to the floor.

“You took her voice from me and believe me, your soul is worth nothing in comparison.”

Barnes then started to scream and hit his head against the floor. Mazikeen briefly looked at him and then turned around to stare at Lucifer.

“You felt the shot, didn’t you?” She asked.

“Stop talking nonsense and hold him. He is going to dirty my marble floor.” Lucifer said. Then he completed. “Call the detective.”

“Decker? Why her?”

But Lucifer didn’t answer. Mazikeen waited two seconds and then tied Barnes in a nearby chair and gagged him when she got tired of his voice (something after five seconds). Then she got her phone and started to type. Chloe presumed it was the message she has received at the end of the night. And the next thing she saw (admittedly many minutes later) was herself coming from the elevator. She stopped the video since she knew what happened from that point on. She was there, after all.

Although she didn’t know what really happened to Barnes due that freaky static, she did have proof that Lucifer has been saying the truth. But it wasn’t what was annoying her. She accompanied Lucifer’s day by video and she was pretty sure that the shots Barnes fired had hit him and that he wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest. She has seen Mazikeen dressing him. She knew it shouldn’t be possible. Was he bleeding out while Chloe was with him in that room? How was he even alive? Was he still? With that concern in her mind, she called the precinct and asked for a patrol to go to Lux and check if the man was alright.

Two hours later, the patrol’s report came back as ‘ _Mister Morningstar sends you his regards_ ’. It wasn’t promising at all, but at least it meant that the man was alive. Well, maybe. Having had quite enough for one day (night) of the investigation, she decided the recordings would still be there in the morning and went to bed.

However, she was so disturbed by the events of the night that any sleep she could get was perturbed by images of Lucifer bleeding out on his armchair while Mazikeen kept serving him drinks. By the end of the night, the drinks she would serve him contained both his and Jimmy’s blood.

It was barely five in the morning when she gave up sleeping and decided that since she could do nothing about Lucifer at that time, she could very well see more of the video, so she would be better prepared when she went to talk to Lucifer later that day (because she definitively would be going to talk to him, even if to ask if he needed some kind of out of that situation. That would be tricky with the recordings and Mazikeen always near, but maybe she could think of something).

Not having any exact point to start seeing the video, she opted to see it from the beginning, which put her somewhere on the morning of last Sunday. Maybe she would be able to see Delilah?

And that was definitively a different morning than what had greeted her in the other video. This morning, Lucifer was standing in the middle of the penthouse, completely naked, nursing a drink he apparently poured himself. The thing is, still scarred as he was, he was standing. He was moving. He wasn’t helpless at all. She caught movement on the corner of the screen and noticed that he probably had someone on his bed. But that was almost inconsequential. Not interest, not at all, she reminded herself, in keep seeing Lucifer’s naked body on that screen; Chloe accelerated the video for almost one hour, in which he kept pouring and drinking alcohol like it was perfectly normal to have bourbon as breakfast. She stopped when something different got her attention. Lucifer apparently decided modesty was necessary and put a robe over his shoulders and, astonishing enough and seemingly out of nowhere, started to prepare a real breakfast. Like, with scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, sliced fruit, orange juice, coffee and all. That was around the time he was putting the food on the table that his guests (yeah, plural) rose and joined him on the kitchen. There were three women, in different states of undress, but neither was properly dressed. Like they knew they should, but couldn’t care less.

“Ladies. I hope you are hungry.” That was all Lucifer had to say, before gesturing to the table. Two of them sat immediately and started to pile food on her plates. The last one, the thinner and shorter of them, however, stayed where she was, seemingly uncertain.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Lucifer asked while pouring coffee for himself.

“I was just wondering… It was just so unfortunate what happened to you…” She said.

Somehow, something heavy got hold of the air and Chloe could see the tension from across the screen. Lucifer paused with his cup of coffee midair, before harshly depositing it on the table. The other women were frozen in place, looking from Lucifer to the other girl.

“Well Brittany, I didn’t think you _cared_.” Lucifer said, in a strained voice. And somehow ‘cared’ didn’t look like the word he meant to say at all. It was spoken with the weight of ‘minded’. The girls were visibly startled.

“Of course we don’t mind, Lucifer.” One of the girls said. So it wasn’t just Chloe who heard the word. “It is just that you _had_ such a beautiful body…”

“But we don’t _care_. What, do you take us for those girls who are interested only in appearance? We had all an incredible night, right Brittany?” She said. Both women nodded.

Lucifer looked from one girl to the other and then resumed drinking his coffee. They stayed silent after that. Chloe speeded the video until some twenty minutes later, when the shorter girl, Brittany, she guessed, got up and went to the bedroom. One of the other girls took the commotion of her leaving the table to find her way to Lucifer’s lap and started to slowly kiss his jaw while taking his healthy hand and placing it on her body.

“What you did yesterday, with your fingers… Care to repeat?” She asked him.

The other girl looked a little bit uncomfortable, hovering between her seat on the table and coming near Lucifer like she wasn’t certain if she wanted to participate.

 Before Lucifer answered, however, Brittany came back fully dressed.

“It looks like one of you is ready to leave.” Lucifer said, and gently pushed the woman out of his lap. She looked disappointed but went to get dressed as well. Soon enough the three woman were laughing together and leaving the penthouse. Lucifer remained on the table.

“Mazikeen.” He said to the thin air, and somehow, the dark-skinned woman emerged from the shadows.

“Yes?” She said, picking up some sliced fruit.

“Yesterday, before bringing the Brittanys in… Did they give you the impression there was something they might want from me?”

“Besides an amazing night of wild sex, do you mean?” Mazikeen asked, sounding amused.

“Yes. Did any of them give you that impression?” He asked.

“Well, not really. Why?”

“Next time they come, entertain them yourself. I’m not interested anymore.” He said, before resuming drinking coffee.

“Sure.” Mazikeen said and picked up some more fruit. Some seconds later, she rounded him on his chair and asked:

“What do you want to do today?”

Lucifer didn’t answer for some time, but then just said:

“Don’t disturb me unless it is important.” He replied and then stood up and went to his bedroom. Mazikeen somehow disappeared into the shadows again and that was it, for a long time.

Chloe took a deep breath and stopped the video. That battle wording between ‘mind’ and ‘care’ looked exhausting on itself. How had Lucifer felt? And why did it matter to her? Well, maybe it mattered because someone should care for what happened to him, in the sense that it looked painful. And that it happened to _him_ and not to _them_! Because those women acted like it was them who lost something. Looking at her watch and seeing that she still had something like an hour to spare, she sped up the video some more, seeing Lucifer drinking along the day. Not getting dressed. Not having contact with anyone. Not doing anything to entertain himself. He was just existing for the whole day. Until somewhere in the late evening she noticed that someone had arrived in his penthouse. She went back some seconds to see the whole scene and was presented by the sight of Delilah coming from the elevator.

“Hey, I think I know you. Aren’t you famous now?” Lucifer asked, apparently unperturbed by the not announced visit.

“You look horrible, Boss.” She said. She didn’t look very good either.

“Came to sheer me up? Can I have an autograph?” He asked.

“Only if I can have a drink.” She replied. Chloe didn’t know if he nodded or not, but Delilah picked a bottle and a glass from the bar on the side of the apartment and served herself something.

“Why are you here, Delilah?” Lucifer asked.

“I have something to ask… But I’m afraid of the answer.”

“Well, I can only answer if you ask. So it is really your call.”

She took a deep breath and a long gulp of her drink.

“Did I sell my soul to you?” She asked, in a sad, so sad voice.

“No, of course not.” He replied. “Is that why you are this wrecked version of yourself? Not the drugs, the failed wedding… Not anything of your own doing?”

After that, for Chloe’s astonishment, Lucifer proceeded to talk to her about how some of her decisions were screwed up and others were actually quite funny to him. And that that favor she owned him? She should put herself together. Delilah appeared to be comforted by what he said and promised to try harder to get clean. And then she left, alive and as healthy as she arrived. Now she had proof that Lucifer was saying the truth, but then again she really didn’t have any reason to doubt him, not after they got Barnes anyway. So far, she also didn’t have anything on Lucifer besides a man living his life. She would give it to him that it was a strange life he lived, but nothing illegal appeared to happen in the days she has accompanied so far. Well, she had more two days to see, but now that the morning has arrived, she needed to get ready for her day. Trixie would be here anytime now.


	3. The rest is silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thank you all for your amazing response! I'm so grateful I'm speechless!  
> Slip of useless culture: there is a Beauty and the Beast series from the end of the 1980’s and the title of this chapter is one of the episodes. I found it oddly fitting. I hope you enjoy!

Trixie was very chatty this morning. And Chloe was somewhat surprised by the normalcy of it. Well, actually, by how abnormal the morning of another someone had been. Of course, her little monkey wanted attention. Of course, she wanted food, some juice to drink. Then Trixie had to go to the bathroom, brush her teeth, and probably use the toilet. And then she drove the kid to school and she wanted a hug and she told Chloe some more about her night and then entered the gates for a day she would spend with some friends, maybe dodging some bullies. It was a day of a normal human being: interacting with someone and fulfilling basic needs like eating and drinking.

Then it struck her: she had already accompanied two whole days of one Lucifer Morningstar. One day in which he was stranded to his chair and had nothing besides two glasses of some alcoholic beverage and one single bite of an apple. The other in which he was fully mobile and capable of cooking or fetching himself anything he wanted in which he had some cups of coffee and many shots of alcohol. No real food in between. No escapades to the restroom either. In both days he did interact with someone, she knew he had, but she didn’t think they were healthy interactions. Well, certainly the one with Jimmy Barnes wasn’t, but even in the ones with the Brittanys or with Delilah she was left with the impression that they all viewed him as a source to be explored, not a real being.

Mazikeen was by far the most caring of his relationships, and that was just disturbing, somehow. The man just didn’t look like he was interested in his own life, sitting around his penthouse the whole day. He didn’t even appear to have a phone, or a book or television to pass the time. His life wasn’t just worrisome, but also… Well, she thought it was pretty much impossible. Like that stupid video was put on repeat while he did all the mundane things one does to maintain oneself alive. And really, why would a man need to have his every move recorded if not to have an alibi if it was needed? And what alibi was better than, I was at home, alone. Yes, I can prove that. An edited record would be just as perfect for a cover-up.

With that thought in mind, she went to the CSI lab and asked some questions around, about the validity of the video and so on and then proceeded to spend the rest of the day doing her paperwork. It was already the end of the afternoon when she got her answer from the lab: the video was legit and continuous, not edited in the least. But that freaky static was just really freaky indeed. They couldn’t explain that. One tech also said that he couldn’t understand how any of the scenes he has watched were possible, and that took Chloe’s attention. Was the guy talking about the nonexistent escapades to use the toilet like she was? Or was he talking about the may-be-fake three bullets that were shot at Lucifer? When she asked what he meant by that, he palled:

“Haven’t you seen the fight? It’s where the most of the static is. Well, after that strange well-timed one hour with the blondie, that is.”

Chloe thanked him and left the precinct to pick Trixie from school. She told herself that she still had two days more to see in that damn video and she surely would have time to do that. Well, after Trixie went to sleep, of course.

Her little girl was exhausted and went to bed early. Chloe still lingered around her home, doing crucial things like washing the dishes and arranging things for the breakfast for the following day, determined that her curiosity would not take precedence from her other duties (duties that she never did at night, before). After almost one hour, when she didn’t find any other pressing activities (not excuses, of course not) she went to her bedroom with her computer and the drive with the recording. After she locked the door (she didn’t want to think about how that was unusual either) she sat on the bed and started to see the video from where she had stopped. To her surprise, Lucifer’s night hadn’t ended with Delilah’s exit. Sometime around ten minutes after she left, Lucifer just tensed on his armchair.

“Mazikeen.” He said throw clenched teeth. The woman once again emerged from the shadows.

“Sir?”

“The man who killed Delilah. I want the skin from his face.”

“Is Delilah dead?” Mazikeen asked and then seemed to sniff the air.

“I WANT HIS SOUL! NOW!” Lucifer roared and then presumably stood up (Chloe wasn’t certain because that freaky static badly corrupted the image again).

Next thing she was able to see was Lucifer slumped against his armchair, looking quite dejected. Two minutes later, Mazikeen came from the elevator. Chloe wasn’t certain when she had left or how much time had passed in static, but it should be something around ten minutes if the timer of the camera could be trusted.

“His soul is yours, my lord.”Mazikeen said.

“Did you..?”

“His car was crushed by a bus just after shooting Delilah. Luck, I guess. But he did say something quite interesting before I let his soul go. He said he did it for money. That means someone had paid him, right?”

 “The body?” Lucifer asked.

“Whose?”

Lucifer just nodded, like it indeed didn’t matter after all.

“Lucifer…”

“One word of penance and Father will set them free. Unacceptable. Whoever did this owe me their soul.”

“Is that what you want? A killer’s soul?” Mazikeen asked.

Lucifer appeared to think about that for some seconds and then dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

“Silence.” He said and Mazikeen nodded and vanished among the shadows once more. Was there some kind of door there?

Many minutes later, Lucifer got up and went to a piano. The object had sat dark and silent in a corner Chloe didn’t notice before. Shouldn’t she? She was trying to recall seen it when she was at his penthouse, but nothing came to her mind. She was brought back to the video when Lucifer started to play a sad melody that Chloe recognized as the start of The Sound of Silence, the version Delilah has recorded that very same year.

After a minute or so of music, in which he did both the instruments and the voice in the piano, he seemed to tire of it.

“And the people bowed and prayed.” He murmured, so softly that Chloe was certain she must have imagined it, although it was recorded as clearly as if it was shouted. “Do tell, Father. Now that she is silent, what will stop cancer to grow?”

After some more seconds, he added:

“Is there still music in Heaven?”

But all she could get was silence. The video was utterly silent for many minutes, until Mazikeen appeared, this time from the elevator and not the shadows, and knelt in front of Lucifer.

“LAPD is downstairs. It is quite the chaos.”

“Shouldn’t you be right at home?”

“You know where my home is.” She replied. After some seconds, she added. “One of the employees has mentioned your name. They will want to talk to you.”

“Let Jana in.” Lucifer replied, and once more Mazikeen went out into the shadows.

Some minutes later, a woman that probably walked straight out of a porn movie, stewardess uniform and all, walked in. They traded some small talk while the woman climbed Lucifers’s lap and from that point on things got heated enough that Chloe remembered her earlier vow to skip scenes of the more sexy kind. Something whispered to her that they could very well be plotting a murder among groans and gasps, but she ignored it.

Chloe paused the video, suddenly very disturbed by the fact that Lucifer knew Delilah has died when there was no possible indicator of that. Did he hear the shot? Well, it was not recorded in the video, but surely it could be loud enough to be heard over the stores leading to his penthouse. Either way, how did he know?

Nothing in his demeanor indicated that he knew it was going to happen or that he was remotely ok with it. Nothing made any sense anymore. She went back to see if there was anything that could have alerted him to it, but so far, nada.

Chloe added to her mental list of things to check a) how he knew; b) if there was any kind of door hidden in the shadows from what Mazikeen may be coming and going and c) if Mazikeen could have architected the killer’s death, somehow.

While she did not believe Lucifer had anything to do with Delilah’s death (something in her gut told her that he was genuinely upset) she was sure there was much more than met the eyes around Lucifer and Mazikeen. For starters, Lucifer may have a solid alibi, but Mazikeen certainly didn’t.

If Mazikeen was indeed using Lucifer’s name and rep to conduct her business, if she had created the urban legend of The Devil herself, Lucifer was the perfect goat (there was a joke somewhere in her mind about the devil and a goat, but she let it slide). The man was a recluse, who didn’t seek human company on his own. Apparently, it was Mazikeen herself who chose who could see him. So far, the deal she has seen was easy enough to fulfill (Delilah was talented and it would be easy for either of them to know Jimmy Barnes, considering Lux status). It didn’t appear like a very far stretch of logic that Mazikeen could be inducing Lucifer’s behavior so she could have achieved her position.

She needed to start investigating and as soon as the morning came she was going to pay them a visit and ask some questions. But she needed to be prepared, so she was surely going to end to see that recordings, at least.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night. From the point he sent Jana away (impressive two hours after she arrived, nonstop, from what Chloe could see), his night was entirely spent on the bench of the piano, naked and with his hands on the keys. As far as she knew, he wasn’t playing, but she wasn’t certain and didn’t care (murder plotting during sex, remember?). From what she has seen, he had moved so softly that she may have missed it when she speeded the video up. She also had some suspicions if Lucifer could be talking to himself along the day and she might be losing it, but it was not like she wanted to go back and see all the recordings again, so she let it be for now.

Morning came and went by with Lucifer still on the bench. Around 10 a.m., a blonde woman came from the elevator, unannounced like Delilah had been. Lucifer didn’t look surprised.

“Hello, Doctor. Well, give me a couple of minutes do shower and then…” He started to say while getting up to apparently just walk straight into the shower.

“I’m not here for that today.” She said while offering him his own robe that was forgotten on the floor. “Want to talk about Delilah?”

“What about client confidentiality?” He asked. In that moment Chloe recognized the blonde woman. It was Doctor Linda Martin! Delilah’s psychologist!

“Never would I imagine you'd really be worried about that. But that’s not what I meant. I meant talking about how you feel about her passing.”

“I…  I’m fine Doctor. Surely I will miss her voice…”

“Only her voice?”

“Her thighs too but… I’m not sure what talking about it will accomplish?”

“Let’s try anyway. Would you mind turning the recordings off?”

And then that freak static returned, well timed just as the CSI tech has said it was. Did that mean that Lucifer could control the static at will?

She speeded the video up until the static was gone, what coincided with the time Doctor Martin left the penthouse. Chloe’s hand was on the mouse, ready to advance the video, but something about Lucifer posture caught her attention.  The man was sitting on his massive coach, looking utterly lost. And wasn’t it strange to Chloe to think he could look any more broken than the empty man she has accompanied so long. She might have stared at the scene for some minutes, futilely thinking about how to comfort, from across time and space, a man that was nothing more than electrical signals on a computer screen now.

She closed her eyes, remembering that not long after that scene she has personally seen him meeting people. That he had just spent a good portion of his night with a porn star.

She tried to remember that none of it mattered.

It shouldn’t matter to her.

It couldn’t. She could not be personally involved in the case.

(But then, when wasn’t she?)

(Wasn’t that the whole problem with Palmetto?)

“Mazikeen.”

Once again the woman appeared from the shadows.

“Call Jimmy Barnes and tell him I wish to speak with him.”

“He may not be willing to.” She replied.

“Wouldn’t that be rather interesting?”

“You know the ones who have met you before rarely want a repeat.”

 “Now you’re being petty.”

“Am I?”

“Give him until tomorrow and then bring him here if necessary.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mazikeen left then (shadows again) and Lucifer stayed silent where he was seated.

She wasn’t sure how much time she spent with Lucifer’s silent figure on that screen. Time appeared to be irrelevant, anyway.

He stayed that way for the rest of the day.

Somewhere around the mid-afternoon, he started drinking. He didn’t stop until the following morning when he stayed once again sitting on his coach.

When the scene changed it was something utterly fascinating. And it was only fascinating because of the normalcy of it. Apparently out of the blue, Lucifer stood from the coach and disappeared behind the only door Chloe has seen on the penthouse. Barely five minutes later he was coming out again, naked but by the towel around his waist. He then disappeared behind the Sumerian wall and came back fully dressed in a three pieces suit.

He then sat on an armchair on the far end of the penthouse, the same one he was when Chloe first met him, that was somewhat shaded by half a wall and curtains and was in a different type of room. Well, it was indeed that day that was being recorded, so it was only logical that something had happened to prompt the scenario she has seen. What exactly that was, however, she wasn’t sure.

One by one, she saw the people coming. The young man arrived first, followed by Mazikeen. The woman recited, word for word, the first warning she has said to Chloe that day and then left the man to meet Lucifer.

“So, what is it that you desire?” Lucifer asked.

That man wanted something innocuous enough. Apparently, he had the grades and brains, but not the name or the money to enter some prestigious college or another. Lucifer asked him if he was willing to pay the price, knowing he was in debt with the devil. The boy nodded. After some seconds of silence, Lucifer extended his right hand, which the boy accepted in a handshake before Lucifer murmured ‘deal’. He then proceeded to borrow the boy’s phone and make a call that didn’t take more than half a minute. In a language Chloe did not understand.

“You have an interview Monday, at 8:00 a.m. You’re on your own now. Do not let this opportunity pass.”

The boy nodded and left. Chloe could see herself coming from the elevator. She did not notice that Faith had arrived as well.

The woman entered.  She could hear Mazikeen faintly recite that weird disclaimer to herself.

“Mister Morningstar, I presume?” The woman asked.

“Do you?” He asked back.

“I’m Deborah. I’ve heard that you grant favors to people.” She said, rounding the armchair so she could place herself at Lucifer’s side.

“I hope that is why you’re here. Or am I wrong?”

“I think a man like you is rarely wrong.”

Lucifer signed.

_You know I don’t appreciate games, Mazikeen. Say what you want to say._

The words came to Chloe’s mind like a warning. To Deborah, however, Lucifer just said:

“What is it that you desire?”

“Well, I think someone like _you_ could benefit from having someone like _me_ at your side.”

Lucifer chuckled.

“Power then.” After some seconds, he added. “You have seen Mazikeen, haven’t you?”

“What about her?” She asked.

“Poor child. Either you state your terms, so I can give you mine, or please get out. I do not want to spend the time I got in this futility.”

“Futility?” The woman asked, her voice laced with aggressiveness hinted as surprise. She then unzipped her dress and leaned over him. “I’m sure I can be worth your while. You won’t even have to pay, isn’t that a novel?”

“I’m not interested in your game. I’d move very far from LA if I were you. I’m sure Mazikeen won’t be pleased once she learns about your intentions to replace her.”

“Why would she…”

Lucifer lazily waved his hand around, likely reminding her that all was being recorded.

The woman huffed and left, yelling that he would never have another chance with a woman like her. Well, from what Chloe has seen so far, she would beg to differ.

Faith entered the room and offered the drink she was carrying to Lucifer. He accepted with thanks on his lips.

“Good night, Mister Morningstar. I’m Faith Montanari. I…”

“Are you the daughter of Mauro Montanari?” Lucifer asked, taking a sip of his drink.

She nodded. Lucifer motioned for her to sit down in the chair in front of him. She did.

“I had a deal with your father. He didn’t fulfill his part of it. I’d imagine life is not as you’d be comfortable with.”

“My father is dead, Mister Morningstar, and probably in Hell for his sins.”

“Are you here for your father’s soul?”

“I’m here for my mother. She isn’t doing well.”

“So, what is it that you desire?”

“I… I need money. Not much, just enough so that I can pay the rent and some bills until I find a job.”

That gave the supposed devil some pause.

“It looks like all you want is actually a job. Why aren’t you in one?”

“Father’s debts are well known in the city, Mister Morningstar.”

“And are you willing to risk your very soul on a deal for some money?”

“I trust you to be fair in your price.”

Lucifer spent some seconds thinking and then said:

“If you are willing to assume your father’s debt, I will bring your old life back. However, if all you want is really a job, talk to Patrick at the bar about a position serving tables downstairs. It shouldn’t take long for the rumors that you’re under my protection to get across the city. I’m sure life will get a little bit easier by then.”

“I….Surely I would love to… But how….”

“No strings attached, darling. You work, you get paid.”

“I… Thank you!”

“That drink, I believe, was for you. Come say hi on Sunday, if you indeed get the job.”

Faith drank her drink in one gulp and left, shaking like a leaf.

Chloe listened to the girl asking Mazikeen about coming back the next week, and then she got an eyeful of herself coming into the room. She remembered that part. What she did not remember was the expression on her face when she saw him (astonished, shocked and just this side of sad) or the one in his (surprised as well, amused, somewhat overwhelmed).

“Mr. Morningstar, thank you for accepting to meet me. I’m detective Chloe Decker from LAPD and I’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Lucifer, please.”

And just like that both their expressions dissolved in something different. Hers transformed into something formal and detective-like, while his assumed a playful hint she has not yet seen on his behavior on the recordings so far. Like for the first time in three days, he was talking to someone and not to something. Or was that just Chloe’s impression?

Chloe saw the whole conversation again. It was a short interview, anyway.

_Do call me if there is anything you may need_

That phrase, somehow, sounded different on the record. Not like he was at her disposal with the case, but like he was at her disposal. Period.

Chloe shook her head to dismiss this ridiculous idea and got back to the video. She saw herself leaving. Some minutes later Mazikeen came in.

“Why did you allow her to come?” She asked.

“Stranger things have happened before, Maze.”

“Lucifer…”

He stood up from his armchair.

“Let her hunt our prey. Actually, what did Jimmy…”

Lucifer didn’t finish his phrase. Static as strong as she had not seen yet corrupted the video so badly that for a second her computer started to produce a horribly loud noise like the sound system was corrupted too somehow. Chloe had to close the playing app and mute the system before she accepted that she had to restart the computer altogether to be able to do anything with it.

And once she resumed the video, the same happened once again. Shit. After some attempts of turning the computer off and trying to see the video, she finally found the point right after the corruption in which the video was playable.

And what the hell happened at his penthouse? As far as she could see the furniture of the house was broken like an elephant has tried to dance tango around there. And Lucifer… The only movement on the penthouse was Mazikeen trying to move something from the wreckage of Lucifer’s once magnificent piano. Not something. Someone. Lucifer’s broken body, to be exact.

Chloe knew Lucifer was alive and cognizant the following day. She knew. It didn’t prevent her eyes to tear up or her mind to scream at her that Lucifer was dead.

The woman carried the much taller body like it was a weightless child. No, like it was a doll, limp and made of fabric. As she deposited his body on his bed, his neck rolled back into an unnatural angle. Oh God… How…

“Am…”

“He left.” Mazikeen said. “He left and he was as unbroken as he arrived.”

“Mazz…”

Mazikeen shook her head. The movement was tight, too controlled.

She picked his left arm up and pulled. With a pop his bones aligned. She ran her hands along his pale fingers and then deposited his arm delicately over his lap. She did the same with his right arm. After that she gently undressed the upper part of his body and then proceeded to support his spine and neck with pillows, sometimes slipping her fingers in between his back and the mattress and making something there do those popping noises too.

Lastly, she sat on his side on the bed. The angle was weird for Chloe to see anything, but it looked like she was taking the rest of his clothes off, maybe massaging his calves or feet.

“Can you feel it?”

He did a humming sound that wasn’t either an affirmative or a negative but Mazikeen seemed to understand it. She covered him with dark sheets and then stood to leave.

“Please try to stay still. I will arrange someone to clean the mess.”

“Mazz…” Lucifer tried to call her, but she kept going until she entered the elevator.

And he was alone.

Somewhere along the night some people came and cleaned the penthouse. Lucifer didn’t even stir.

The rest of the night passed in labored breathing that the video recorded with astonishing quality. The morning came and went, and sometime into the afternoon Mazikeen came to help him get out of the bed. Chloe has already seen that and didn’t care for a repeat. She closed the lid of her computer and went to bed.

Sleep was a trying thing that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm trying a new English editor to try and correct my mistakes. What do you think? I'd be very grateful if any of you could point out mistakes it may be missing. I'm also all for suggestions about the story and thinks you'd like to see on it.


	4. Coffee for empty words

The morning arrived with a new sense of purpose.

Today she was going to talk to Lucifer and clear up some of the shit she has seen in that video. She was going to get the visual assurance that Lucifer was all right and not a broken doll that has sustained three shots to the chest and was being psychologically manipulated by a woman that went with the pseudonym of Queen of Pleasure.

 But firstly, she was going to prepare breakfast for her child.

As she made an egg sandwich for her daughter, the idea of doing one more formed in her head like the water mining from the soil. Small, discrete, but inevitable. She couldn’t explain it, but after seeing Lucifer going basically four days without food she had an almost visceral urge to see him eating something. Anything.

She didn’t stop to think about it too deeply. Making sandwiches was more important than making sense at that time of the morning.

After her child was fed and delivered at school, Chloe called the precinct to let the Lt. and Dan know she would be going to Lux that morning. Not that she owed then (or Dan) that kind of satisfaction when investigating, but it seemed like a good idea that someone knew where she was.

“This early? Lux will not even be open.” Dan exclaimed over the phone.

Well, that was true, but as far as she has seen, both Lucifer and Mazikeen lived in the building. Their schedule, however, was completely unknown. Actually, sleep and food appeared to be very debatable concepts to Lucifer.

Actually, if she was received at all, how was she going to explain having a sandwich for him? Well, since it was still relatively early, she stopped at a nearby cafeteria and bought two cups of coffee. It would be a normal enough gift to deliver when visiting someone at that time of day, and what if there was an accompanying sandwich with it?

Armed with food she wasn’t sure if Lucifer would even eat, she went to Lux.

The building was open, in the sense that there was a crew cleaning the bar for tonight activities.

“Still investigating Delilah’s murder?” She heard Mazikeen saying, from behind the bar.

“Or did you like the recordings that much?” The woman added.

“Both.” Chloe deadpanned. “Can I talk to Mister Morningstar?”

Mazikeen opened her mouth to answer but no words came from it. After that first false start, she closed her eyes and assented with her head.

“He will see you. You can take the elevator.”

Chloe turned to the direction of said elevator, but Mazikeen grabbed her wrist, effectively stopping her. When the detective turned around to demand the woman to unhand her, their faces ended up so close that they were almost touching noses.

Chloe tried to move back, but Mazikeen followed her movements. She then turned slightly her head and… She sniffed the skin near Chloe’s right ear.

“What…”

They were so near that Chloe could feel Mazikeen’s breath on her face, smell her skin and (or was her imagining it?) count her pulsation on the vein of her neck. Overall, her breath was hot and inviting and the smell of her skin was a prelude to sex in itself. Suddenly the only thing Chloe could think was that that woman earned her nickname.

The detective was totally frozen by that thought when Mazikeen’s tongue come out of the woman’s mouth and neared her chin. It stopped before making contact.

“I don’t get it.” The woman said.

“That… That makes two of us.” Chloe said, trying to catch her breath. “You and Lucifer seem to be really close…”

“I followed him through the gates of Hell.” The woman replied. “He is waiting for you. You remember right? Recordings, no jewelry, no lying to him.”

Chloe could only nod before turning to the elevator. From Mazikeen’s answer, it would appear that the woman was adamant about her role as a person that would follow rather than have some kind of power in their relationship. It was an interesting if expected answer, but that made questioning her absolutely futile. Just as she pressed the button to call the elevator its doors opened and a man with bronze skin came through it – a lot of exposed perfect bronze skin. Chloe, still trying to catch her breath, had a brief thought if she had any moral to judge if it was a good thing that Lucifer was well enough to receive that kind of visit.

After the right, when the doors opened, she was recomposed enough to wonder about the darkness of the penthouse.

“Hello, Detective.”

And that was Lucifer Morningstar, in a robe, sitting in the dark on one of his numerous armchairs.

Alive.

Awake.

And… Amused?

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked.

She quickly looked around. The curtains were closed, but there was enough light for her to see that there were no obvious doors hidden in the portion of the room where Mazikeen would suddenly appear. His piano was also replaced and the rest of the penthouse was either cleaned or reconstructed. Overall, the only evidence of the tango-dancing-elephant-thing in the room would be the faint bruises on the right side of Lucifer’s face and on his right arm. She could only wonder about the state of his skin on his left side, where the burns concealed the bruises.

“I have questions. Do you mind answering some? I brought you coffee.”

“Coffee for empty words. Sounds like a deal.”

“Careful, the cup is still quite hot.” She said. It must be just shy of boiled if the warmth against her hand holding the paper carrier was any indication.

He let on an amused half smile. The skin on the right side of his mouth was so dry that his lips cracked. He didn’t seem to notice. She extended the carrier in his direction, along with the bag of sandwiches. The hands that took a cup and the bag from her were shaking.

“What do you want to know?” He asked just before he took a sip from the cup. The heat didn’t appear to bother him. The cup trembled along his hand.

“Are you alright?” It wasn’t what she had planned to ask, but those shaking hands were bothering her.

“No. But there is no need for the LAPD to send a patrol and then a detective to check on me.”

“Are those videos real?”

“Why do you think I would tell you if they weren’t?”

That was actually a good point. But the thing was that she _needed_ explanations so she had no option but to _believe_ in him. Not only because of the case she was assigned, but because somewhere along the way, short as it was, understanding what she saw was as important as believing her own sanity. Even if she couldn’t understand _why_. Even with the high chance that everything was an elaborated lie.

That sentiment wasn’t so different from the one she had in which she had needed to see him eating something.

“I saw some things that could not be real.”She said. Her voice was slightly tremulous.

“Reality is overrated, anyway. It looks like what you believe is real is more important than what actually is. And you do believe, don’t you?”

“That you got shot three times and are somehow alive? I have evidence that the gun was shot at the time it was but not that the bullets were real. So either they weren’t or something too alike Stephenie Meyer’s work is happening here.”

After some seconds of silence, Lucifer asked:

“Whose work?”

“Stephenie Meyer. Twilight, you now? ‘ _You never eat or drink anything. You don't go out in the sunlight_ ’” Chloe said the last part with a funny quality to her voice that actually made the man in front of her chuckle. She took the chance to gesture to the direction of the closed curtains. “ _’I know what you are. Vampire!_ ’”

“I’m not a vampire. And you can open the curtains if you want to.” To prove a point he actually took a sandwich from the bag and bit it.

He promptly gasped.

For a second she thought he was choking. But then he suddenly focused both his normal and glass eye on her.

“Did you _make_ this for me? Why?”

“What?”

He looked at her for some seconds more. After a minor staring contest, he shook his head and then turned back to his sandwich. He took one cautious bite and then another one. And then he gulped the rest of it down like a starving man. When that one was finished he fished another one from the bag, clearly delighting in seeing one more in it yet. After he had eaten the three sandwiches he slumped against the back of his armchair. His breathing was labored. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling. The normal one was suspiciously shiny. His hands on the armrest were shaking more than before.

His cup of coffee had fallen to the floor in his frenzy to eat. Although she could see the steaming coming from the soaked carpet, he did not seem to have noticed it at all, even with his foot in contact with the still too hot spilled liquid. The skin of his right foot, that until that moment was pale and healthy, was turning the characteristic pink of a slight burn.

She approached him slowly. There was something disturbing in his behavior that she could not grasp. Was him in the middle of a panic attack? Over a sandwich? Wasn’t him feeling the pain of the spilled liquid?

“Lucifer.”

She said his name in a whisper, but he heard her. His eyes immediately focused on her face. He actually frowned upon her concerned expression.

“You’ve burnt you foot.” She said.

His frown got deeper.

“You spilled your coffee. You need to clean your foot. Maybe put it under running water?”

He then looked down, first to his left foot, which was a mess of dark scars, then to the right one that only sported a faint pink color. He shrugged like it was no big deal after all.

Not knowing how to react to that, Chloe actually did something she could not explain: she begged him to take care of himself.

“Please.” She said. His frown only got deeper and deeper.

“I’m… I… I’m not exactly very mobile today…” He tried to explain, gesturing to his own legs. They were also faintly shaking.

She took a deep breath. She had seen him being picked up from the destroyed piano and being tended to the whole of the next day. If she believed the video, and that was a big if given that he was also shot in it, it was not surprising that he would be still stranded in a chair (a semi-naked man with perfect bronze skin notwithstanding).

“Can I?” She asked.

The look he gave her was so confused that something in her own chest ached for him.

The sound of the elevator’s doors opening shattered the moment. Mazikeen entered the penthouse charged like a bull.

The woman took one look at Chloe’s face, one look at Lucifer and promptly turned to the direction of what Chloe expected to be the bathroom.

“Why are you here?” Lucifer asked with a small voice that went quite well with his still nonplused face. That ache inside Chloe’s chest intensified.

Before she could answer, though, Mazikeen was back, carrying a basin filled with water and some towels. Without asking for permission, she the kneeled at Lucifer’s feet and started to clean the right one with slow, gentle movements.

The moment seemed oddly intimate, not to say sacred, somehow.

“I’m going to transfer you to the couch, ok?” Mazikeen asked. Lucifer nodded once and clenched his teeth, probably preparing himself for some painful movements.

The scene that unfolded wasn’t so different than the one she has seen on the day after her first visit, besides all the shacking that was involved this time. The main difference was that now it was happening in front of her eyes, so she could see the pain in Lucifer’s face, as well as how little effort Mazikeen was doing to sustain almost all of his weight. Chloe had little doubt the woman was capable of carrying the tall man bridal style if needed. And didn’t that boarded on the insane?

 That was when she noticed a smashed bullet lying next to the armchair he once was.

She carefully took an evidence back out and picked it up. She looked around for the others, but didn’t find any.

It looked real enough in her hand and she had no doubt it was a bullet that was once fired and hit its target. She just needed to know who fired it, when and what was the target. Ballistics would have a nice day.

As she looked up, Mazikeen has just finished placing her burden lying on the couch and was staring at her.

“She can have the bullet, Maze.” Lucifer said. “She can have anything she desires from the penthouse.”

“Why?” Mazikeen asked through clenched teeth. Chloe felt like she was standing in front of a wild animal.

“She cares.” Lucifer murmured.

“Why?” Mazikeen asked again.

“I have no idea.” Lucifer replied.

And then the man lying on the couch started to laugh hysterically. It was not a nice laugh.

The rage in Mazikeen’s face increased tenfold. A wolf, Chloe decided. She looked like an enraged wolf. Don’t move or she will attack.

“You should leave, now.” Mazikeen snarled.

Chloe didn’t move a muscle. She couldn’t.

That was when her cell phone started to vibrate. The movement somehow broke her out from her trance. She nodded once, said something about coming back in a more appropriate moment and left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think about it? I will promptly admit I'm very needy when the subject is reviews and that they are the ultimate incentive I need to keep writing. Well, not really because I will probably finish this anyway (I want to see where it goes) but I really get highly motivated knowing you are with me on this journey.
> 
> That said, thank you all for the lovely comments you've left already. They made my days worthy!


	5. Under your skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all for your support. It's really importante to me!

It took years, but it would appear that Nick Hofmeister had finally killed someone. That was as far from a good thing that could happen, surely, but Chloe definitively wasn’t surprised. She was a little bit perturbed by the scene, though. Hofmeister’s behavior also seemed off, somehow. But that wasn’t her case (she was compromised) and Daniel, as always, was very intent in closing it quickly. He did have a confession and all.

Even if not surprised, Chloe wasn’t convinced.

Oh, there were so many things Chloe wasn’t convinced about.

But then again, there wasn’t much she could do besides delivering the bullet to the lab and wait for a report. Her only open case now was that of one Lucifer Morningstar, and she somehow managed to leave the penthouse without any answer (actually, she didn’t even ask any questions) and with a deep sensation that she had somehow wasted her only chance to talk to the man.

It was many hours later when she received a text message that read ‘ _The bullet is from Barnes’ weapon. Recently shot. Full report tomorrow._ ’

That was something. Barnes’ weapon was on their possession since he was arrested. Unless the whole thing was staged (and Barnes had no reason to collaborate in that) it would appear that he had indeed shot Lucifer and that the man had survived.

Her vampire joke came to her mind, but she ignored it. That man clearly wasn’t bulletproof, he did get burned by hot coffee, didn’t him?

Suddenly the urge of knowing the truth (Lucifer’s, Hofmeister’s, It didn’t matter which) assailed her. She drove to Lux.

The only problem was that Lux was currently open and the line to the entrance was quite intimidating. It was not just ridiculously long, but the people were dressed to impress. She wasn’t. She was still in her simple jeans and an even simpler dark shirt.

She didn’t even think about her clothing this morning, as preoccupied with stupid sandwiches as she was.

When her phone buzzed she took it almost absentmindedly.

‘ _He will see you. Get the elevator on the garage. Be careful, I will be nearby._ ’

It was the same damn number that had sent her the message about coming to arrest Barnes. How did they keep doing that?

Taking her chance, she texted Dan to let him know where she would be (in case something happened – he was still her child’s father, after all) and went to the garage to take said elevator.

The ride up took time enough she was really nervous once she got to the penthouse. She tried to come up with a list of the things she wanted to know, in order of importance, but her thoughts just keep getting messed up in her mind.

Once the doors opened, she found Lucifer lying in that damn couch in practically the same position and same clothing she has seen that morning.

When his eyes focused on her he seemed disappointed.

“No food this time, it would appear.” He said, before looking at the ceiling.

“I have some questions.” She said, getting near him. “Can I sit?”

“This question is quite easy.” He retorted. “Of course you can.”

She looked around for somewhere to sit and discovered that all the armchairs were quite far from the couch. She ended up standing near him, anyway.

“There are chairs near the bar.” He said. She shrugged.

This near she could see that his arms and legs were still faintly shaking. Now and then one of his limbs would give a spasm like he was suffering a cramp.  His right foot was bandaged.

“First you weren’t even concerned about your foot. Now it is covered by bandages. I’d call that an overreaction.” She commented.

He didn’t answer. She noticed then that she didn’t actually ask him anything.

“Were you shot by Jimmy Barnes?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you dead?”

“I’m immortal.”

Right.

“Do you also sparkle under the sunlight?” She asked, not without humor.

“I’m not a vampire.” He replied. So he did know Twilight!

“I’m the devil.” He added.

Right. Surely that made sense. In another reality. Was it possible that the man actually believed he was the being his codename alluded to? How messed up was he?

“Are you finished with your questions, detective?” He said. When she looked at his face he had closed his eyes.

“I’m just contemplating what a curious thing it is that the devil is bulletproof but totally vulnerable to hot coffee. Maybe it was blessed? Made of holy water?”

“I’m not vulnerable to holy water either. Well, I suppose it would hurt if it was boiling but…” He trailed off, waving his not burned hand around. His eyes were still closed. The fingers on that hand were swollen.

“Do you really want me to believe that you are the devil? The _real_ devil?”

“Humans… So obsessed with reality when you live anywhere but there…” He murmured.

Enough was enough.

“Ok, prove it!” She said.

He opened one eye. The glass one.

“That you don’t live in reality? I’m not sure it’s possible. You see, humans perceive the world through their senses, so you don’t see a thing, but the radiation scattered by that thing as processed by your eyes and brain so…” He trailed off. Like that explanation made any sense at all.

Chloe remained silent.

After some seconds Lucifer raised a shaking hand to open his robe.

For a moment Chloe averted her eyes, not wanting to be flashed by Lucifer’s nudity, but then looked back at him, focusing on his face. From the corner of her eyes, she saw that he was indeed wearing something under that robe and allowed herself to look.

He was wearing his underwear and a myriad of blackish wounds.

On his left side, all she could see was dark scars and burnt skin. Some places were scarred anew like the skin cracked open not long ago and the wound has just closed. On his right side, however, the marks were not only apparent but obvious. His chest, arm, and leg were covered in black and purple bruises. His right side looked like what you would expect from someone with broken ribs. His neck and collarbone were almost black as well. The only reason why he didn’t look like one only giant bruise was because over that there were some marks more prominent and darker in color: finger marks on his neck (like he was strangled), two circular marks on his chest, one on his stomach, the impression of a hand on his arm.

Semi-naked as he was, Chloe also noted that besides the shaking, there was a slim layer of sweat covering his skin.

“Where the bullets hit.” Lucifer said, placing his burned hand over the circular marks on his chest.

It looked like the mark left in skin covered by a bulletproof vest after it was shot at point-blank. No rubber bullet would leave a mark like that. It was also somewhere around where she would expect from the video. It didn’t prove anything, but wasn’t that a big coincidence?

“It would be a lot of effort, and pain, to fake something like this.” She mused aloud.

Lucifer actually chuckled.

But then he grimaced and not half a second later his left leg spasmed.

“Are you alright?” She asked and then immediately noticed the absurdity of her question: of course he wasn’t alright.

The spasm lasted long enough that it was irrelevant to answer her question anymore.

“Sorry, cramp.” He said, lifting a shaking hand to cover his own eyes. “It’s happened all day.”

“Do you need help to stretch the muscle?”

He raised his hand only enough to focus his glass eye on her face.

“I mean… Why didn’t you do anything about it? Called someone?”

“My physiotherapist came by yesterday. I guess we ended up stretching the wrong muscles.” He replied.

And then he closed his eyes again (Chloe thought he did, his hand was still covering the actual eye, but the glass one was shut alright) and hissed while his legs spasmed once more.

“Mister-perfect-bronze-skin?” Chloe asked while joining him on the couch.

Lucifer nodded while murmuring that Marco would love the nickname.

Placing her hand on Lucifer’s calves came naturally at that point. She only noticed what she was doing because as soon as her hand embraced the muscles and started to rub warmth in them Lucifer flinched. She stopped rubbing but didn’t remove her hand at the first moment. She could feel that he was now tensed all over.

Even the shaking seemed to stop given how tensely he was holding himself.

“Sorry. I was trying to help.” She said, hands in the air in a pacifying gesture.

He kept looking at her like she was an aberration.

After an uncomfortable amount of silence, Chloe stood up and put some distance between them.

“Look, it is clear you need some help. Physically and probably mentally too. I mean…”

“I’m not crazy. Nor am I an invalid.” He said.

“Well… Of course not but…”

She thought for some seconds and then crouched in the floor, near his head. She leaned against his ear and whispered:

“I know Mazikeen may be listening to the recordings. You can shut it off at will. Can’t you? Can you do it now?”

“Why?” He replied, not moving anything besides his lips. He was equally quiet, but Chloe suspected it was more in deference to her proximity than to avoid the cameras.

“Lucifer, I have motives to believe she is manipulating you. That she can be feeding your delusions so she can use you and your power to run your business.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He said.

“Is it?” She whispered back, growing anxious now. “She is controlling all of your contacts with the exterior world. She has let you stranded in an armchair or on a couch for hours without any food or water. She knew about your foot in less than a minute after it happened. To me, it is clear she is watching every interaction you have and runs interference when she sees fit. I expect her here any minute now to stop me. Please, let me help you.”

“Maze will only come if she scents danger. Or if I call her.” Lucifer replied in a controlled voice.  If Chloe’s memory could be trusted, it was loud enough to be recorded.

Since he had probably revealed the content of their conversation already, Chloe put some distance between them by sitting on the floor.

When almost a full minute passed in silence and with no sign of Mazikeen, Chloe let herself breathe normally.

“The recordings are for my own benefit.” He said.

“So you can watch yourself having sex with charming prostitutes and porn stars? I doubt they would mind a camera right between their legs, you know.” Chloe joked not-joked.

Lucifer actually seemed surprised by what she has said.

“Prostitutes and porn stars?” He asked. He seemed amused.

Chloe could feel herself blush. She shouldn’t have said that. Should she?

“But no. I’m more concerned by what is not recorded than by what actually is.” He said. Then he added. “Why prostitutes and porn stars?”

“Well… From what I’ve seen…”

“I don’t recall any prostitutes or porn stars here recently. Are you talking about the Britannies? They are actually very accomplished architects, you know?”

“The stewardess?”

“Actually a stewardess, if you’re talking about Jana.”

Chloe took a deep breath and then noticed she had strayed a lot from the point.

“So, you mean that the videos are about the freaky static and not about what is actually recorded?” She asked.

“Each type of energy leaves a different type of interference. I’d like to know what happens around here in case I’m unable to witness it, or in case Maze needs to figure it out for herself. Well, ‘who’ at least.”

Chloe shook her head. She didn’t understand what he was talking about. And sincerely? She was not sure she wanted to. After she had touched him on impulse, things only got more and more awkward.

“Maybe it is better if I leave.” She said.

Lucifer once again closed his eyes. He nodded.

Chloe stood up. But since things had gotten awkward enough, why not let it out? With her back turned to him, she said:

“What I don’t get is why you actually believe in this. If you’re bulletproof, why did you get hurt today? What about all these marks? What the hell happened to you?”

“Hell, indeed.” He said. Then he added. “Well, actually Heaven, if we are blaming the guilty.”

When Chloe turned to look at him he was slowly caressing the skin over his shoulder.

“This body is a construction, a cocoon. It’s a reflex of my real one. And like my own, its skin is fragile, vulnerable. That’s why it got hurt with spilled coffee.” Lucifer said.

Somehow it sounded like a confession. It sounded like he was sharing a secret.

An important one.

“You’re hurt beyond your skin.” She said.

“Yes.” He said, simply.

“Who did it to you?”

He remained silent for long enough she supposed he wasn’t going to answer.

“Dad, I suppose.” He said then.

Did his father? Oh shit. How? Why wasn’t it recorded? Was that the kind of interference he was talking about?

“But if you’re talking about my current purple and immobile state, I’d tell you to not worry about it. It’s not a recurrent thing and also has nothing to do with the vulnerability of my skin.”

“What…”

“One angel can hurt another.” He said. “And unfortunately, my brother is so much stronger than a damn bullet.”

“So…What you are saying is that you have an angel brother who came here, attacked you and that it is not recorded because his very presence caused interference of the camera?”

 “That’s accurate enough, yes.”

 “Your angel brother did this to you?” She tried to clarify. She wasn’t even sure if the worst part was the allusion of an angel or a brother who could do that.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

Ok. The man was insane. What kind of answers could she pry from him at this rate? She opened her mouth to ask him why an angel would resource to violence, but he interrupted her.

“Detective, don’t you see how pointless it is to ask me questions if you don’t believe the answers I give?”

She was obliged to agree to that.

“I’m just going to leave, then.” She replied and then once again turned around to do just that.

To her turned back, Lucifer said:

“Is it really me you don’t want to believe?”

That gave her pause. She obviously couldn’t believe him, because that was impossible. But there was something else on the corner of her mind.

Hofmeister was guilty of many things, but she was not certain if she actually saw a murder in him. However, instead of answering him she opted to keep going to the elevators and vowed to stay as far from this mess as she could.

The next day she indeed took a closer look at the case and found evidence of another person on the crime scene (a smoked joint) and then of someone taking strangely well-timed photos. By the end of the week, she had proved Hofmeister’s innocence and arrested the actual murderer, one Josh Bryant.

And if Lucifer crossed her mind sometimes, it was no matter. She had new cases to concentrate on.

It was not like the Lt. was expecting real answers about what amounted to an almost urban legend so fast, anyway.


	6. The wolves' lair

She didn’t stop thinking about Lucifer.

Well, she did, kind of, for one week, more or less.

Well here is the thing. For a week (more or less) she dedicated herself to other cases. And if she sometimes caught herself wondering about a man so broken as to believe he was an all-powerful biblical being, who could fault her? It was just human decency, wasn’t it? Well, the man was injured, probably a hostage within his own home, within his own mind. Maybe he was starving and thinking it was alright? He clearly needed help and… No, Chloe wasn’t thinking about Lucifer. Nope. Not at all.

But the thing was… As powerful as the man known as ‘The Devil’ has been, he had mostly laid low for the past years. Now, after some research, Chloe could tell you that Lucifer Morningstar was once as a public figure as a figure can get. He was a very well known rich boy who had it all: fame, woman, money. Some would even say power. But that was a not a very important thing at the beginning, even because as fast as he had risen, he had fallen. One day the man just disappeared from the public eye, not to be seen anymore.

That was around the same time as the figure of ‘The Devil’ emerged, like a bogeyman. He somehow started to exert control of many of the cities aspects. As far as the rumors went, that man once had a say in everything that happened in the city. And that included the LAPD, the mafia, the criminal world, everything. Well, with the possible exception of the church. But she wasn’t sure of that part.

Couple the fact that nobody ever reported seeing him again with the amount of power it was said he had and here you have the seed of an urban legend.

Chloe just could not conciliate the image of someone so powerful either with the image of Lucifer from the previous 5 years or with the man she met some days ago. But she could grasp that a freak accident would transform the old Lucifer into the present Lucifer. That totally freaked her out, because maybe the real bogeyman was actually Mazikeen. The only thing she didn’t understand was why she would need Lucifer to her act. Nobody has publically seen him in over two years. She could very well use only the idea of him, without using him at all. Actually, she was already feared enough by herself. She didn’t need even the idea of him anymore.

But back to the point that she wasn’t thinking about him, it wasn’t her fault that the Lt. took an even greater interest in the case. Well, maybe it was but…

Apparently, after two years of lying low, he suddenly was doing business around again, publicly, that is. He was once again exerting his powers around the city, some said he was assuming control of the criminal underworld. Him! Not Mazikeen Smith.  Not the Queen of Pleasure.

The why was as much in her mind as the how. Because why would he do it now? Was it because she asked him if Mazikeen could possibly being manipulating him? And how? As far as she has seen on her last visit that man was quite banged up. He was fucking immobile on his couch! Nothing was making any sense anymore!

On top of that, trying to solve Lucifer’s case without thinking about him was so paradoxical that she gave herself about ten migraines already (counting only today).

Given that her direct contact with Lucifer had only revealed that the man was quite insane, she needed information from new places to placate the Lt. So far, all she had was the knowledge of the people that were recorded on that video, that she knew had some kind of contact with Lucifer. It was not much, but since it was all she had, that was the lead she would follow.

Talking with the Britannies revealed nothing new. They were architects; they knew Lucifer from the time he was a playboy and they keeping seeing him because he was a good lay (on that point, that same one said something about his fingers that Chloe didn’t want to have elaborated). And yes, none of them seemed too worried about Lucifer’s situation. The three girls would say that the experience was worth it (Chloe asked what they meant about that, they all dismissed the question by saying that appearances didn’t matter. The shorter one at least had the decency to look sad when talking about Lucifer’s injuries).

“When you are with him, he makes the world about you. Even when you’re not alone with him.” One of them said to her. Chloe believed her. Somehow, she could feel the truth of that in her own belly.

When she asked about the scars, the three of them gave the same answer: it started small, over the skin of his chest. He assured them it was not contagious, though.

Jana was overseas, but she was amenable enough to talk to Chloe on the phone. Mainly the same answers, although with a lot of information Chloe would rather not know. She had met him during a flight, before the scars.

“I mean, they usually fall over themselves trying to get my attention, you know? But he had such an effect on me that I actually begged him so he would let me suck him off. He tasted like… Like the first cry of a violin in a tango. Best orgasm of my life so far and he didn’t even touch me. After that… I don’t know, it was like heroin. After his accident… Well, when I’m in town I go to him and he knows what I want, so it is good. He is strong too. Only lay I’ve ever had that can make me come holding me in the air. That can take it as long and as hard as I want.”  Jana told her.

When Chloe asked her what changed after the accident, Jana took some time to answer.

“His skin tastes like ash. Good thing he never asked for a blowjob again. I’d try to give it to him, but… I think he would notice that the violins are gone.”

When she asked what Jana knew about the scars, the stewardess answered:

“There was a fire in his club. Don’t know the details. One day, stunning, tall, dark, and handsome. The other, recluse rich man with a bourbon glass.”

Both the boy and the girl of that night she met him had nothing much to say (she ignored the woman on principle). The boy got his vacancy and haven’t heard from Lucifer since. The girl, Faith, was working on Lux and was happy about it. When asked about her father’s connection to Lucifer, though, she got really tight-lipped.

“We know your father worked for the mafia.” Chloe reminded the girl.

“Father made a deal with the Devil, but refused to fulfill his part of it.”

“What did Lucifer ask from him?” Chloe asked.

Faith looked torn for a moment, and then said:

“Mr. Morningstar had prohibited father to beat a woman again. He used to hit me and my mother, now and then, mainly in front of his colleagues. Father’s girlfriend got pregnant with the child of another man. Claimed she lay with others because father was impotent. He killed her with his bare hands. The next day it was like he was never in the mafia in the first place, he had no power, no money, nothing besides debts. He killed himself. I think he was afraid Mr. Morningstar would come after him.”

“Why did Lucifer ask that from your father? Why did you look for him, after?”

“I’m not sure of the first part, but I think it has something to do with the deal that got him the building where Lux is. I went to him because I was desperate.”

“Desperate enough to sell your soul?”

“There are worse people that could own your soul for much less, don’t you think?” Faith asked, and that was it.

Chloe also talked to Doctor Linda Martin. The doctor was as tight-lipped as before, but she did tell Chloe two things. The first one was that yes, she was indeed sleeping with Lucifer (and that doing so was a transcendental experience). The second one was that she believed Lucifer needed extensive mental treatment and that although Chloe had good reason to be worried, there was nothing she could do. She didn’t elaborate on anything about Lucifer’s condition.

When Chloe asked about the scars, the doctor replied that it was not her place to say, but that it was nice to have another pair of eyes looking for new ones. From that, Chloe realized the doctor thought they were auto inflicted. Could Lucifer be doing that to himself? Could Mazikeen?

Having drained her leads, Chloe was now investigating the previous owner of Lux who was… Faith’s uncle? When the Lt. interrupted her. They had a meeting with Lucifer today, after three weeks after last seeing him.

Well, actually, no.

They were (unwilling) informed by an apprehended criminal that there was a meeting happening today. In a rather shady part of the town, she must admit.  And since it was still her case, she must attend to it. Well, someone in LAPD should, at least.

“Chloe, they know you’re a cop! As soon as they spot you, you will be killed!” Dan was protesting.

“Well, believe me when I say they will know a cop from miles. At least if it is me I have a chance to talk my way out of it.”

“How would they identify a cop? And why would they let you go? You are making no sense at all!” Dan was still protesting.

How could Chloe explain that to her stubborn ex-husband? She just knew.

“Well, what do you suggest?” Chloe asked instead of answering. “That you go? They also know you!”

That seemed to shut Dan up for some seconds. That was exactly what he was suggesting, apparently.

“We have other detectives on LAPD, just so you know.” The Lt. added.

“But if any of them is spotted using a recorder…” Chloe tried again.

“You are probably right.” The Lt. conceded. “But you’re not going alone. A woman would draw too much attention. You’re going with Detective Hopkins. And you are dressing the part.”

Chloe reluctantly agreed. Even if she dreaded what part was that she should be dressed accordingly.

Two hours later, the only conclusion she could draw was that she should trust her gut more frequently.

Hopkins was smugly dressed in dark jeans and an expansive looking leather jacket while Chloe was with a skirt so short that she felt like if someone looked hard enough they would be able to see her ovaries. What was utterly ridiculous, because she was using underwear and tights. But even so… The fact that Detective Hopkins, as well as the rest of the department, despised her was not helping to calm her.

Yet one hour later, that freaking operation has gone so south that Chloe was having a hard time believing in it.

First of all, they didn’t let Hopkins in. They also only let Chloe in because Lucifer Morningstar himself had taken interest in her figure and said he could use such a pretty little thing later.

The second problem? Lucifer freaking Morningstar? That guy wasn’t Lucifer! He had a vague resemblance to what Lucifer would look like before the burns, but it was mainly because of his dark hair and brown eyes. He was also a tall and slender man and carried out a British accent. But that was it.

The only thing that wasn’t a disaster in that scenario yet was that nobody was the wiser that she was a cop. That would surely change as soon as Mazikeen arrived. If she would come at all.

“So, pretty thing. What is your name?” Fake-Lucifer asked.

“Jane.” She replied, taking the opportunity to assess the man in front of her.

Crooked teeth. Fake cologne. Barely fitting suit. Not a good enough replacement in Chloe opinion. He also didn’t look like someone who would fit Mazikeen’s standards. Actually…

“So, Lucifer.” She whispered, nearing him in an attempt at a seductive move. “I’m a little curious. How do I compare to the Queen of Pleasure?”

“The Queen of Pleasure?” He seemed confused. It was common knowledge that The Devil and The Queen of Pleasure had any business together.

That gave Chloe pause. So far, that man didn’t look like he knew what he was doing. Picking another’s criminal date, branding the name of Lucifer Morningstar among (she looked around) the leaders of the lesser part of the LA criminal world, without Mazikeen’s consent. Without even knowing who she was. He was a con-man. A very dumb one.

What kind of chaos could a man like that cause? What would happen to the city if the gangs thought they were above the law of streets? If they thought they had The Devil’s protection? What about the not quite head of mafia families she could see around? What if the balance they’ve found was utterly disrupted?

“Jane? Hey!” The man was protesting.

Apparently, he had tried to talk to her for a bit but she wasn’t listening.

“Look, I get it you must be insecure because I alleviated you of your last client. But there is something big going on here and I don’t have the time to lose with you. So, just pick a seat and we will agree on the ‘price’ later, right?”

He said she should pick up a seat, but it was clear he had already chosen one for her. Shocked, she could only nod. Yeah, listening to that meeting seemed like the type of thing she should do. Find a way to get out of there unscathed also looked like a good idea. Mainly because the man at her side was pointing a gun at her side.

He talked about taking the power in their hands. Actually, no. He talked about how magnanimous he was in deciding to share his power with them. Giving the power back to the people on the streets.

He talked for a long time. Chloe was preparing herself to fight a civil war.

Then, without warning, the doors banged open.

Mazikeen entered the place like she owned it.

The woman walked to the Fake-Lucifer with a carefree quality in her steps. She seemed amused. She also strongly resembled a cat who was preparing to toy with its food. Once in front of him, she actually smiled.

“Well well well. Look what I found. The would-be Prince of Darkness.”

“Do you know who are you talking to?” He hissed, ironically not knowing who she was.

“Does it matter?” She added. She then looked over her shoulder. “Can I have him?”

“He is mine.”

Upon hearing Lucifer’s voice Chloe immediately turned to the direction of the doors, now closed. If not for the voice, she would never have recognized him. Impossibly enough, he was standing in front of the closed doors, dressed in a fitted black three-piece suit, the only color in him a crimson handkerchief in his pocket. The only thing denouncing his less than perfect physical condition was the black cane he was leaning into, but even that could pass as an affectation. He was also completely covered. He wore thin black leather gloves over his hands and a fitted mask over his head. It would resemble a ski mask if not for the dark gray metal one on his face (remember Imhotep on the Mummy’s movie? Like that). In the dark ambiance of the room, his glass eye appeared to emit a strange red light.

On top of all that, the way he held himself expressed an incommensurable amount of raw power. Like the devil that he claimed to be.

“And who do you two think you are?” Fake-Lucifer stuttered. It would appear that he was finally grasping the trouble he was in.

“This lovely lady in front of you is Mazikeen, The Queen of Pleasure herself. Don’t let her nickname deceive you. She is quite skilled at torture too.”

Fake-Lucifer looked down to Mazikeen’s smirk and actually shuddered.

“And I am who you are pretending to be. **I will not tolerate it any longer**.”

The last phrase was said with the harmonics of dozens of voices and the force of a thunder breaking the sky. As Lucifer neared the man, Fake-Lucifer actually collapsed on his knees. The man was trembling. Half of the people were.

In a too fast move, the man at Chloe’s side stood up and pointed the gun at Lucifer’s back. Just as he had pushed the trigger a very well aimed knife embedded itself in his chest. As the shot hit the ceiling, Chloe looked at Mazikeen’s direction. The woman still had her arm extended and an identical knife in her other hand.

As the man collapsed to the floor, Chloe noticed that Mazikeen was actually looking directly at her, like daring her to do something about it.

“Please, please. I’m sorry. Have mercy.” Fake-Lucifer was whimpering on the floor. If the tense air could be trusted, neither Lucifer nor Mazikeen was commoved by the display.

“Mercy is not my strongest virtue.” Lucifer replied. “You call yourself by my name. Maybe you’d like to act the part. Pass through what I passed. Carry the scars I do.”

Chloe could not take it any longer. Mazikeen’s knife certainly would pass like she was defending Lucifer. But if the man tortured his impostor, burned half of his body… Even if he survived there would be still a lot to answer to. She was a cop, damn it.

“Lucifer!” She said, standing up.

The man actually turned to look at her but remained silent. For an excruciating moment, she thought he hadn’t recognized her. But then she realized that he had kept silent in deference to her disguise.

For some seconds, the only sound that could be heard was the whimpering of Fake-Lucifer, still on his knees. The bang of a gun caught Chloe totally out of guard.

As she looked down, the man at her feet had a smoking gun still raised. His arm was shaking. Chloe looked at the direction he was pointing and saw Lucifer, standing on the same spot, holding himself on his cane as before. As Mazikeen shifted in their direction, knife raised, Lucifer actually stopped her with a raised hand.

Lucifer then neared them and crouched on the floor.

“If I was a more charitable devil, I’d tell you to repent. But there is no true repentance without faith. And there can be no faith after you’ve got proof of the divine. Or of me.”

Chloe couldn’t actually see anything, but for a moment she had the impression that both his eyes glowed red behind his mask. After that, the man’s screams were so much louder than Fake-Lucifer whimpers that for a moment Chloe actually forgot about him.

Lucifer stood on his feet, overlooked the terrified crowd and said, in a low voice that resonated like an exploded bomb. It could be clearly heard over the man’s screams.

“I will be waiting for you. Come on Mazikeen. Bring the impostor.”

Just like that, he left the place. Mazikeen did not immediately follow. She neared the screaming man at Chloe’s feet, took her knife from his chest and neared it to his throat. Just before she could slice it open, Lucifer whistled, not differently than you would in order to get a dog’s attention. That stopped Mazikeen short, it seemed. She pocked her knife, grabbed Fake-Lucifer’s short hair and dragged him out of the room. Noticing that the criminals around her were frozen on the spot, she took her chance to get the hell out of there.

Two blocks away, she was fishing her phone from her too small purse to call the precinct when she noticed familiar voices coming from the alley. Coming closer, she saw Fake-Lucifer on his knees, his head held up by Mazikeen strong grip on his hair. Lucifer was leaning against the opposite wall.

“I take it you will not try this foolishness again?” He said.

“No! I learned my lesson! Please, please! Let me go!” Fake-Lucifer neared shouted.

Lucifer nodded and Mazikeen let the man go. Fake-Lucifer got to his feet and ran away so fast that Chloe was certain he did not even see her.

“He deserved more than a slap on his hand.” Mazikeen murmured.

“He believes now. Hell will take care of it.” Lucifer replied.

“And that has nothing to do with our audience?” Mazikeen asked.

“Sassy! Lucifer likes. Hello, detective! I confess I’m confused by your presence.” He said, finally turning his head to her.

“When someone says the devil himself is gathering an army to change the laws of the street it becomes a police matter, wouldn’t you say?” She retorted. That air of terrifying power that surrounded him some minutes ago was gone. Chloe felt giddy with relief.

“I told you she was investigating you now.” Mazikeen said.

Lucifer gave out a very eloquent sigh. At the same time, it said ‘Yeah, what have I expected?’ and ‘Children’.

“As I said before, Maze, it is no matter. Let’s get out of here.” He said.

But when he shifted to hold his weight on his feet, he let out a gasp. When Mazikeen tried to hold his waist to help him stand, he actually flinched. Mazikeen’s right hand was stained with blood when she pulled it away.

“You were shot.” She said. “And the bullet actually broke your skin?”

Lucifer nodded.

“Lucifer! It is getting worse! You’re bleeding now!”

“I noticed.” He replied.

It took some seconds for Chloe to recover from her shock and near them. This time around she was there. She saw the shot. She had proof that the bullet was real. But not even the fact that he was bleeding was enough for her to not be impressed by the scene. Lucifer didn’t even flinch when he was hit.

“Should I call an ambulance?” She asked. She knew she should, but somehow she also knew that the idea of a hospital would not be welcome.

If Mazikeen’s hiss in her direction was any indication, she was right.

“Go home, detective.” Lucifer said.

Chloe knew, in the pit of her stomach, that she should do something. She knew that if she did not intervene, Lucifer would not get proper treatment. Nonetheless, she simply turned on her heels and went home. Only after dinner with her daughter would she question her own actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is another one. Let me know what you think?


	7. A deal with the Devil

Chloe slept poorly that night. In the few hours she actually got any sleep done, she had this strange dream in which she kept losing time and not remembering where she placed it. And then she would find it in the bottom of a drawer, or under a long forgotten carpet, sometimes in the form of a big feather, sometimes looking like a kitchen knife, once in the form of a smashed bullet, just for it to be a fragment of a dream that would die into fumes, and then she would have to resume looking for the time she may have lost among the mess in her apartment. She didn’t understand the connection, but she swore to herself that Trixie was going to take a break from reading Coraline before bed. Even if the girl adored the book, Neil Gaiman was obviously messing with Chloe thoughts. Yep, nothing to do with a self-proclaimed devil who got shot and for whom Chloe performed very quick and efficient amount of no care at all. On his own orders, no less.

To say that she was a little distracted during breakfast preparations would be an understanding. She may or may not have placed her cellphone inside the freezer and tried to put fried bacon on Trixie’s cereals, but that’s not here nor there (she got her phone back before leaving, miraculously remembering it was beside the tomatoes, and Trixie didn’t want to eat cereals anyway).

So now, breakfast shenanigans taken care of, she was pondering about what she should do while her kid was babbling about how her belly was hurting and she didn’t want to go to school. Hold on, what about a hurting belly?

“What is wrong with your belly?” Chloe asked, only now making the connection with the uneaten cereal.

“It is doing strange things like it wants to squeeze something.”

 After some questioning, Chloe assumed it was nothing too serious.

“What do you say if we give it a try and if it gets worse you tell Ms. Ten about it and I come pick you up early?”

Trixie didn’t look happy with the agreement, but she nodded.  Before she went in, Chloe wrote a note about the incident and asked Trixie to give it to her teacher. She hoped she had done the right thing.

Actually, the right thing has been a very slippery thing lately. How was it possible that she wasn’t sure of one single action of hers this week? What brought back the Morningstar issue. Should she have done something? Should she do something now? Make sure that he got medical attention, at least? More importantly, did she really believe he needs help, and therefore is a horrible person for going home yesterday, or is she just frustrated with herself for not being more assertive and gone home, therefore being a horrible person for caring that much of how she thought she should act?

She didn’t arrive at any conclusion in the fifteen minutes it took her to drive to the precinct. However, it would appear that a decision was making itself for her.

As soon as she arrived, Dan was at her desk, running through a list of names of…

“These are people who got invited to a seminar from the Player’s Club, I’m trying to see if I can impersonate one of them, but they all really well known public people so far.”

“Okay. And you are doing it on my desk because…”

“No light in mine. Light bulb burned out.” He said. Sure.

“And you’re doing it at all because…”

Dan then told her about the case he was working on, of a missing Lindsay Jolson. Who came to LA with her brother and was last seen in one of the Club’s seminars.

“They actually teach guys how to be jerky sex gods. Many club owners were invited, besides people that actually paid almost a thousand of dollars to be on the list. I’m trying to see if I can fit the profile of one of them, but they are all rather well-known.”

“All the people who paid?”

“No, but those had sent their photos on registration and it will be on their nametags. No one there looking like me, either. Also, the invited ones got to take someone with them, so I would be able to take another cop with me. One more pair of eyes can’t hurt, can it?”

“Nobody looking like another detective, perhaps?”

“It is my case.” Dan replied.

Chloe wisely chose to conserve her precious saliva after that and look at the list, since it was on her desk, after all.

One name actually blinked at her. It was a smug blink.

“Have you seen that Lucifer Morningstar is on the list?”

“So what? Well known club owner who they would immediately be able to tell is not me.”

“We could ask him to help us.” She said.

“Why would he? Also, aren’t you supposed to investigate him? Why are you befriending him instead?”

Chloe was going to say something about her being able to do her job alright and the common decency of saving a girl’s life, when Dan interrupted her:

 “Actually, we can talk about it later. Right now I got a time-sensitive case in my hands. And you’ve been no help at all…”

And at that exact moment she heard someone saying that ‘Hey, you can’t just barge in!’ to which she heard Lucifer’s voice replaying ‘Of course I can. Maze, there is no need to maim him.’

And then there was Lucifer Morningstar, in all his suited glory, accompanied by Mazikeen, scantily clad as always. The thing is, it was a slightly different Lucifer than the one she saw yesterday. This Lucifer was wearing a three-piece dark blue suit and an ocean blue handkerchief on his pocket. Snowy white shirt. His hair was a little mussed on his head like he was wearing a hat that he had just taken out. The black stone on the ring on his healthy hand was somehow emanating a reddish light that resonated with the light reflected by his glass eye. No gloves and no mask in sight. He was also holding himself mostly upright, once again carrying his black cane that was half support, half affectation. Also, he was smiling. Surely, it was a small smile that resided on only the healthy side of his mouth, but it was there.

Chloe, looking mostly at Lucifer, still could see Dan’s reaction with the corner of her eyes. Dan looked up from the papers on his hands, saw Lucifer, dismissed him, looked back at his papers, though better about it, looked back up and almost fell off the chair.

The only reason why Chloe didn’t burst out laughing was that she suddenly had both The Devil and The Queen of Pleasure in the middle of the precinct.

“Hello, Detective!”

“Lu.. Mr. Morningstar, good morning. Would you like to sit down?” Chloe babbled.

“That would be lovely. Mazikeen.”

Before Chloe could do anything, Mazikeen had taken the chair of Chloe’s neighbor (who was previously sitting on it) and was placing it for Lucifer to sit down.

“Chloe… What are they…” Dan began, at her back. Oh, Chloe would like to know that answer herself.

“Now the humans have lists with your name on it.” Mazikeen said. When had she stopped smirking at Chloe’s fallen colleague to go looking at her desk?

Lucifer’s half smile dissolved into a neutral expression when he heard that. His gaze never wandered from the detectives in front of him while he absentmindedly waved his healthy hand in asking for the list in question.

“Hang on! You can’t just grab whatever…”

Dan’s protest was cut by Lucifer’s very pointed look at the chair he was sitting on. Of course, he could. Luckily for Chloe, before that gaze could be directed at her, Mazikeen was handing him the Player’s Club invitation list. He apparently took only half a second to understand what it was about.

“The Player’s Club. Yes, they do invite me to every event, in hopes that I will lend them Lux for the conclusion party, I imagine.”

“Is the final party being held at Lux?” Dan asked. Both Lucifer and Mazikeen looked at him like he was the dumbest creature to ever walk on Earth.

It was Mazikeen who broke the five seconds silence.

“Course not. I’d never allow it. Jerks or losers, the lot of them.”

And then she looked from Dan’s face to Dan’s groin, back to Dan’s face and smirked. Dan blushed beet red. Oh, Chloe was certain she would be amused if she wasn’t somewhat mortified (she remembered her own reaction to those videos and then to Mazikeen’s proximity).

“Anyway, how is being invited to this nonsense is contributing to your investigation, Detective?” Lucifer asked her. She gulped.

“Actually, there is this girl, Lindsay Jolson, who is missing. She was last seen in one of these events. Carver Cruz, the founder, has refused to talk to us. We were looking for a way to get inside one of his seminars. You being on the list of guests is just a coincidence.”

Lucifer thought about it for three whole seconds and then clasped his hands together.

“Marvelous. So tell me, if I help you to solve this little trifle that means I’d have your company for, let’s say, the rest of the day, right?”

What?

“What?” Chloe asked.

“Well, I imagine you were looking at this horrid list in the hope someone that would go to this equally horrid event could take you as a companion. We go in, you ask some questions around. I get to sentence some guilty souls. In the meantime, we talk. Does it not sound fair enough to you?” He asked. He seemed carefree, but he was agitated in a way she had never seen before. Was he anxious of been in the real world? Did it have anything to do directly with her?

“Hey! It is my case we are talking about!” Dan protested. Oh, Dan…

Lucifer let a slight grimace escape like the words actually hurt his ears. He then mustered a half smile that was entirely false and replied.

“You have absolutely nothing that would interest me.”

“It would actually be doing the world a favor. You see, the companions of the invited players are expected to learn some skills at these events…” Mazikeen started to say, but Lucifer silenced her with only one look.

Once outside of his field of vision, Mazikeen made a lewd gesture with her hands and mouth, clearly indicating that the learned skill would be in the fellatio area. Although she was behind Lucifer, the man still rolled his eyes, like he could see what she was doing. Mazikeen fell utterly silent after that.

 “That is it? You let me go in and do my job and all you’re asking for is for some talking in my spare time?” Chloe asked, incredulous.

“I will even compromise to answer any question of yours, provided you answer some of mine. Tit for tat.”

Lucifer smirked and it was like butter wouldn’t ever melt in his mouth.

“And none of these ‘expected learning’? Will you actually let me do my job?” She tried to clarify.

“I’d not recommend anything from the Player’s Club. We can further negotiate any learning later if you so desire it.”

Oh, God. With a pang, she noticed that maybe she ‘desired’ it. Not the learning bit, but the fellatio bit. What the fuck? Ignoring the imagined violins in her heard (not thinking about the tango, not thinking about the tango) and slightly mortified in her turn to blush, she sprang for her position near her desk and started to grab the papers scattered there.

“Ok. Let’s go then. To the Player’s Club seminar. No funny business.”

“You got yourself a deal Detective.” Lucifer said, rather amused. He stood up and turned to leave, and then said, over his shoulder. “Be at Lux at 2 p.m. tomorrow. Let me know if you have a change of heart, on any account.”

And then, just as unexpectedly he had arrived, he was gone. Chloe had two full seconds of radio silence before she realized that she had just made a deal with The Devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your amazing comments and the kudos!


	8. Oh glorious days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry for the long hiatus. I've been abroad, and then busy, and then utterly heartbroken by the way season 3 ended without the prospect of a 4th. Nonetheless, I hope you like this chapter. As always, corrections are appreciated.

Chloe’s routine was turning surreal. So, today she was once again preparing breakfast for her only child, who was once again refusing to eat (even though she ate plenty at dinner last night). After that, Chloe was going to the precinct to study a case she wasn’t assigned to while trying to get her mind in order to face the case she was actually assigned to (Lucifer’s). Also, she needed to go home at lunchtime so she could grab a shower, perfume herself, redo her hair and make-up and chose a killer dress she does not have so she could pass like the date of LA’s more powerful man. On top of that, she may or may not have sold her soul to the devil. Oh glorious day.

Soon enough, it was 2 p.m. and a very anxious Chloe was arriving at Lux. With her usual clothes, because she just didn’t have anything better. What was her life? Just as she was preparing herself to confront Mazikeen, she found another person at the bar.

“ Mr. Morningstar has given you an all-clear, Detective. You may take the elevator.”

“A what?” She asked, astonished.

“A free pass. In his words, you can go up anytime you want. I’d advice you though, don’t overdo it. I would also be very careful about bringing someone with you. Mazikeen is truly pissed with the situation.” The man said.

Chloe was so shocked that she forgot to mention to him that she too didn’t think it was a good idea to let anyone go unannounced to Lucifer’s abode, least at all her. Just when she was already inside the elevator did she think if she should have alerted him somehow. Of course, that was the time the doors opened.

“Detective! Right on time!” She heard Lucifer greeting her.

And then she promptly turned around, because the man was standing naked in the middle of his living room, with his back to her, while an equally naked Mazikeen was kneeling at his front.

“I’m sorry! I… I…This is beyond inappropriate.” She tried to apologize, but she wasn’t even sure if she should.

Mazikeen actually chuckled.

“I think that is enough.” Lucifer said to the woman at his feet.

Not five seconds later Chloe saw a completely dressed Mazikeen (how could she fit in those tight garments so fast?) leave the flat. Although she didn’t look at Chloe’s direction until she had arrived at the elevator, once she did she had murder on her face.

Chloe gulped.

“You can turn around, you know?” Lucifer said. He sounded amused.

“Are you dressed yet?” She asked.

“No. Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!” She protested. It actually made her want to look even more, and now she was feeling utterly ridiculous.

“Right. But you are curious, aren’t you?” He said.

She was going to protest, but then she realized he wasn’t talking about that. She was indeed curious about many things regarding his body, and not all of them were sex-related. For instance, she really wanted to see how his bullet wound was doing.

So she turned around and was promptly flashed with his bare chest. Taking one step back, she noticed what all the fuss was about. Over his abdomen, covering his navel, part of his right side and the top of his hip there were thick, white bandages. There was already a small but visible spot of blood on the center of it.

“What happened to you?” She asked, clearly concerned.

“Rough night.” He replied.

Chloe was going to ask further, but Lucifer gave her a half-sad smile that utterly disarmed her.

“I like your choice of clothes. Maybe you could help me to find something matching your style?” He asked while turning around.

Chloe took that opportunity to take a good look at his back. Sure enough, there was a scar in the middle of his lower back, just over his spine, with the shape of a bullet. It didn’t look like a bullet scar though. It looked like he was branded by a hot bullet instead of shot by one. It also looked quite old, even if she knew he was shot only two days ago. On top of that, if that wasn’t strange enough, all the wounds that Lucifer was sporting some weeks ago were gone. On his back, near his shoulder blades, over the gruesome red scars that seemed to cover more and more of his body every day, there were crescent moon shaped indentions that looked like they were carved from his skin. Like skin, muscle and bone were actually removed. What the hell was that? How did he survive something like that? How could he even move his arms? Also, there was no way in Hell those could be auto inflicted. Who would do something like that to him? To what end?

He walked in the direction of his closet and Chloe’s eyes were drawn first to his naked butt (strangely scar free) to the way his feet were moving against the floor. Both of his feet were covered in deep, almost identical scars.

“People have a hard time looking at them. I know it is mainly because they are so very ugly, but also because they are always shocked to see new ones. They think they have missed them the first time around.” Lucifer said, still moving to the closet. His steps looked pained.

“The ones on your foot look years old, but I know you didn’t have them three weeks ago. How are you doing this? Why?”

That actually gave the man pause. He turned to look at her. He seemed utterly disappointed by her lack of faith in him.

“They are not auto inflicted. I’m also not letting anyone do it to me if that is what you are insinuating. You may say I have a… A very rare physical condition.” He turned around once more. “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself about, though. It is a quite old condition, I knew the scars were going to happen, there is no known cure and I’ve come to terms with it already. As I keep repeating, it is not contagious. It’s just… It’s just unfortunate, I guess.”

“Lucifer…”

Contrary to his previous words, he went to his closet all alone and came back wearing fitted dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. It resembled the outfit Hopkins had used to the Fake-Lucifer’s case (to which the bastard had even managed to get credit), with the clear exception that Lucifer rocked it, while Hopkins looked like any other dull guy trying to impress. It also strangely fitted Chloe outfit in a way that would make like it was the other people in the world who didn’t have any good clothes, not her.

When he fully turned to her, he was holding the metal mask in one hand, along with the leather gloves. Just as he was collecting his wallet and a distressing high amount of cash from a nearby drawer, Chloe noticed his movements were quite stiff compared to the previous two days.

“Are you in pain?”

Lucifer didn’t bother to answer. So he didn’t want to talk about his wounds anymore. That was understandable, but why did he let her know there were new ones?

“So, why were you waiting for me naked?”

Lucifer looked at her and for a moment Chloe had the impression that his glass eye could see something inside her soul.

“It certainly wasn’t planned. I was ready to go an hour ago, with a rather different style, I may add. My poor suit is a bloody mess now, no pun intended.” He said sounding a bit offended.

So… Was he insinuating that those wounds just blossomed on his skin? Was he going to start bleeding out of nowhere in her car? Would she need to take his clothes off and also her to tend to him if that happened… WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE THINKING?

Chloe was well in panic mode already when Lucifer’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Are you driving?”

Caught unaware as she was, she could only nod. She came with her cruiser and it wasn’t a good idea to let anyone else drive it. It was a good thing that he wasn’t insisting on driving it. Actually, could he drive? The image of him bleeding in her car came back at her mind. Why the hell was him naked in that scene?

“Are you ok with manual gear?”

Before she could fully nod again there was a small object flying in her direction. She caught it on reflex. It was a car key.

“Good. Let’s go then.”

And then he was turning to the elevator, metal mask already in place mid-turn. Gloves following soon enough.

Chloe followed. Well, that was unexpected, to say the least. And enough to let her concentrate again.

“So, I’m driving your car.”

“Correct.”

“And we won’t go with mine because…”

“First impressions are important.” He paused for some instants then looked directly at her from behind the holes on his mask. “Unless you’re truly uncomfortable? Of course, I could drive if it is better, but I insist on switching cars. I do think that yours will cause the wrong impression.”

And then the doors were opening in the garage of Lux and HOLY CRAP! A 1962 black on black Corvette convertible! (Which she only knew of because it was her father’s dream car). The hell? The guy had an (easily) over one hundred classic car, was clearly able to drive it and was going to let her do it? Shit. When she went out with Dan he always insisted on driving, even when the car was hers. Even Hopkins had insisted on going with his cruiser, therefore driving, therefore leaving her stranded in that alley.

“Detective?”

“Oho! _That_ is gonna be _awesome_!”

__________________________________

Chloe was surely having the time of her life in that car, even if she couldn’t really accelerate in the city limits. Contrary to his own words the previous day, Lucifer spent the whole ride quiet. Chloe couldn’t be certain, not with the mask concealing his face, but she thought he was amused.

__________________________________

Lucifer was right. First impressions were important. She was absolutely sure that they only got to park because of the Corvette. The guard on the front still insisted that Lucifer took the mask out. He only did so after silently confirming with Chloe that she was okay with it. Chloe wondered if Lucifer would be able to keep the mask and still enter if he wanted to. He probably would.

The Player’s Club was… Something else, that was for sure. The men were scattered around the hall in either black or white suits (why white?), all of them holding expansive looking drinks in their hands. The women were either dressed in very short sparkly dresses or into scant leather things. Everyone was very clearly trying to impress. Those who gave Chloe any second glances made that with disgust. She was clearly too blasé, too bland for a place like that. People on principle avoided looking at Lucifer. Even the woman at the reception opted to look at her like she was an insect instead of a person.

“I’m sorry sir but this is a very exclusive…”

“I’ve got an invitation.” He said while extending a golden card and what seemed like his very own ID.

She looked from the card to this face and then back to the ID.

“I see Mr. Morningstar. Please feel free to get a drink. Mr. Cruz may join us shortly. We can direct you companion to the appropriate activity…”

“She stays at my side.” He said.

“Mr. Morningstar… Wouldn’t you rather…”

“No, I wouldn’t, thank you.”

And with that, he took a pair of ridiculous name tags, wrote something on both of them and handed one to Chloe.

“You know, it’s actually a good idea that I mingle with the other women. They may be able to tell me what happened to Lindsay.” Chloe said.

Lucifer nodded but kept walking to the bar.

Chloe signed and looked at the name tag, intending on putting it on. It read “Morningstar’s”.

“I’m not your propriety, you know?” She said.

He gave her an amused look. For one instant Chloe feared for her mortal soul.

“There is power in my name. I’d be more comfortable knowing you can wield it if necessary.”

“In a name tag?” She asked.

He shrugged.

She let it slide.

“So, can I go and mingle?”

Too late she noticed that she was actually asking for his permission.

“You came with me, you’re leaving with me. That’s the deal.”

Which it would appear was denied.

“You said you would let me do my work!” She protested. Why? WHY was she still talking to him and not just going do what she damn wanted?

He looked at her then. She felt like a child under his gaze.

“Now that’s different. Have you actually brought your real _girlfriend_? What are you trying to achieve, pal?” A guy asked.

Chloe looked at him. White man, reddish-brown hair, in his late thirties. Ridiculous white suit. A model-like blond woman in her twenties at mid-distance.

“Oh, holy shit! Now I see. Look, man, hiring a prostitute and dress her like your girlfriend is not going to buy you any favors, you know?”

Then it clicked. They looked like a pair, dressed as informally as they were, in a matching style that hinted at matching tastes. But then the man must have seen the other half of Lucifer’s face, previously hidden from his profile, and thought… Thought what exactly? That she was too much for him? _She_?

When she looked at Lucifer to catch his reaction, he was sniffing at the air.

“But what would? You’re here because you want. You desire. Tell me, what is it that you truly desire?”

“I…” The man’s eyes were glassed. After a strange pause, he kept talking. “I want power.”

“Power? For what purpose?” He kept asking.

“So I can have them. All of them.”

Lucifer got closer and whispered in the man’s ear. It was loud enough for Chloe to hear.

“There are only two beings in the universe capable of owning a soul. One is me, the other isn’t you.”

When Lucifer straightened up, the spell broke. The man looked at Lucifer with renewed respect and not a small amount of fear.

“But by all means, do call me if there is anything I can do to help. I’m sure we can compromise on the price.” Lucifer added, extending a card with Lux address on it. The man gulped, accepted it and then vanished among the crowd.

When Chloe got back to herself, every single small hair on her body was standing. She only got fully back to herself when she noticed a glass with a golden liquid in front of her. When had Lucifer grabbed it?

“I can’t drink. I’m on a case right now…”

“I won’t tell.”

The speed with which she accepted didn’t pass unnoticed by her. Great, she had just been tempted by the devil and had fallen for it.

“Do I owe you my soul?” She asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Detective.“ He replied, happily sipping his own drink.

At the time the fact he didn’t say no didn’t bother her. At the time, she just shook herself and remembered that of course not, he wasn’t the devil, couldn’t possibly be, so there was no way she could have negotiated her real soul to him. And her figurative soul… It was clear that he had got some kind of interest in her and when dealing with a man like Morningstar it was preferably to be invisible. Well, it was too late for that now. Besides, he was helping with her case, wasn’t him? It certainly was better to be in his good graces rather than on his way.

With that thought in mind, she raised her head and looked around. She had a crime to solve.


	9. Fulfilling a deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all the fun that you've been expecting did not happen but some important things may be brewing.

People were looking at them.

Chloe, who was a fairly insecure teenager (believe it or not) once took her top off in front of the cameras. She had not felt so exposed then.

Every look was judging. Every judgment had found her wanting. Clearly, everybody in this place just thought that they being here was an error in the Matrix.

Lucifer was either unaware or uncaring, lazily sipping at yet another drink. It was unnerving.

“What is it, Detective?” He asked once he had finished his glass.

“It’s just… People are looking at us like we don’t belong.”

He hummed. When she looked at him there was already a waitress passing him another drink. It was around the tenth he had in the last twenty minutes. Should she be worried? Well, he didn’t look drunk and it was not like he didn’t already deliver his part of the deal, but… She really didn’t want to be left alone on this alcove of lions.

“For once, it would appear that people are right, then. We do not belong here.” He replied.

Well. She knew that she didn’t belong! But he could. He was the fucking most powerful man in town! If people would just look at him and see past the scars on his face…

“Those people.” He started. He then paused, took a deep breath and started again, both eyes looking directly at hers. “These people are here because they are incomplete and they think that Cruz can offer the missing piece. You are here because something went horribly wrong with someone else and you want to make it right. Can’t you see why you will never belong among them?”

That struck Chloe like a thunder. Not knowing how to deal with this unexpected praise, she opted to guard it to be analyzed in a later time. One thing got her immediate attention, though.

“And why are YOU here?”

Lucifer took five seconds and a deep breath to answer that.

“I confess that I’m a bit curious.”

Something in Chloe’s face must have told him that she was not convinced because he decided to explain that on his own volition. “I want to understand you. I… I want to know you.”

Okay…

Okay… That was strangely direct, brave, a little pathetic and ridiculously adorable… Or that would be if the man in front of her wasn’t a fucking urban legend meant to scare the Bogeyman. Who claimed to be _the_ Devil.

“You don’t need to look so alarmed, Detective. I’m good at giving people what they want, and if what you want is me far away I could do it. Well, after this case is closed. For a while, anyway.”

The fuck did he mean with that?

“What the fuck do you mean?”

He looked at her like she was the dumbest creature alive. In the other’s people face that look made her feel insufficient. On his face, it was just infuriating.

“You came with me, you’re leaving with me.”  He repeated.

“Yeah! And then?”

“I wouldn’t impose my presence to you. I do not wish to make anybody uncomfortable.”

“So what the hell was that ‘for a while’ bit?”

His expression fell. For one moment, he looked very tired and positively ancient. His next words resonated somewhere within her soul.

“There is a grain of uncertainty in the destiny of all beings, including in mine, and including in yours.”

It wasn’t an answer. It was the furthest thing from an answer that he could have given her. But her soul accepted it as an absolute truth and then there was nothing her brain could come up with.

The silence that followed, though, was all-consuming. She was utterly incapable of leaving it like that.

“I’d like to know you as well.”

He snorted. She could sympathize since she didn’t mean to say it like that. She wasn’t even sure if that was true. She was honestly terrified of the idea of knowing him. But something inside her was still wrestling against itself with the idea that she needed to know.

“If I asked you who you are, really, would you give me an answer?” She asked.

“Yes. And for the record, it would be the truth. Always the truth.”

“Ok. What would it be, then?”

“I’d tell you that I am _what_ I am.”

“And _who_ is that?”

“Tell me, are you a detective?”

“Yeah.” She replied.

“Then I’m the Devil.”

“It’s not what I…”

“Are you a mother? I’m a son. Are you a good person? I am not. The list is pretty much infinite, but the sum of it is that you are Chloe Decker, and I am Lucifer, the Morning Star.”

To sum up: he was infuriating and she was infuriated! That was what they were!

“It’s not an answer!”

“Of course it is.” He replied. She just noticed he had a new drink on his hand.

She was going to reply, but then she saw Carver Cruz arriving. Cruz stopped at the reception and was now talking to the girl.

“That’s Carver Cruz. We need to find a way to talk to him in private.” Chloe said.

“No need. He is coming to us.” Lucifer replied.

And just as he said it, the girl pointed at them and Cruz looked at their direction. He appeared startled, but then took a deep breath and started walking, zeroing on them.

“Mr. Morningstar! I confess I’m really surprised to see you here! I’m Carver Cruz! And who is your lovely companion?”

“Detective, what is the crime Mr. Cruz is being investigated for, again?” He asked, entirely dismissing the man in front of him.

Chloe couldn’t resist it. She facepalmed. How? How could Lucifer jeopardize the case so bluntly? What was she going to do, now? In between clenched teeth, she murmured ‘the missing of Lindsay Jolson’.

Lucifer took that in stride, even if Cruz looked like was going to burst.

“He is not your perpetrator.” Lucifer said, and then took another sip of his drink. “But his desires lie in that direction. Tell me, Mr. Cruz, what it is that you desire?”

“I want Lindsay safe.” He replied, and then shook himself back to reality. For one instant he looked truly conflicted in between expulsing a cop from his very exclusive club and what translated as a deep sense of respect of what he knew of Lucifer. Said devil interrupted his conflict with his next words.

“It’s a desire that you can’t afford.” Lucifer replied.

Why did these words transform Chloe’s blood into ice? But then Lucifer was looking at her with a strange expression of his half face. He appeared to consider it for a minute and then turned again to Cruz.

“Tell us what you know and I promise you that we will find her. It’s the best I have to offer.” Lucifer said. Cruz nodded. He was crying. Neither Lucifer or Chloe commented on it.

 

 __________________________________

 

In the end, it would appear that Lindsay had been kidnapped. But instead of being the perpetrator, Cruz was trying everything on his limited power to have her back. Having Lucifer to attend the event had been a flimsy move that he was both delighted and terrified worked.

“They want an amount of money that I don’t have. They also said no police or they would kill her.” Cruz said, lending her his cell phone.

“Strange choice of target. You are not known for being rich, and I don’t think her being your girlfriend is public knowledge.” Chloe murmured.

“I know you’ve said you would find her but…” Cruz started, stopped in the middle of the sentence and visibly forced himself to continue. “They asked for one million dollars… I know you deal with favors. Surely this amount of money is not too must to ask for?”

Lucifer, who was lazily going through his whiskey selection (and making faces with varying degrees of disgust) just waved his glove-covered right hand.

Chloe correctly interpreted that as ‘not for me. It is for you.’

“How come you don’t have this type of money?” Chloe asked, remembering the people downstairs.

“His business is very expensive, but also deeply exclusive; otherwise it all grumps to ashes. It’s more appearance than money.” Lucifer replied.

Chloe was going to ask him further, when he talked over her, in Cruz direction. “I’ve already said I would find her and you’ve have already done your part on the deal. But by all means, we can make another deal for the money, if you want.”

“What would you want?” Cruz asked.

“Your soul.” Lucifer replied.

Ok, that was awkward. Seizing the opportunity, Chloe asked:

“What would you do with a soul? Eat it? You surely appear to not eat anything else.”

Cruz looked horrified for a full second, only relaxing when Lucifer busted out laughing. The sound was strangely thrilling.

“Of course I would not eat it.”

“So why all these deals? Why do you need them?”

“I don’t need the souls, per see, although it is always disappointing when one soul guaranteed to Hell ends up converting at the last instant and gaining entrance to Heaven.” Lucifer replied. After almost half a minute in silence, he approached her and whispered, against her ear. “Later. Let’s solve this poor soul’s problem first. I can answer all of your questions later.”

The promise of a later made her skin explode in gooseflesh. Lucifer, cunning bastard that he was, noticed. He took the opportunity to lightly exhale a puff of hot air on her ear, his nose lightly touching a loose strand of golden hair.

The moment lasted a full second before Cruz cell phone vibrated with a coming call.  While Chloe took a step back, somehow, Lucifer had already gone to Cruz side and was picking the call up.

“Hello. No, Mr. Cruz is not available. I will be assuming his business for the following hours.”

There was a brief moment of silence in which Chloe wrestled against herself in the dual need to smack Lucifer’s head for being so imprudent and thanking him for assuming the negotiation.  On the one hand, he just kept jeopardizing the case. On the other, who as better than Lucifer fucking Morningstar to strike a deal? In the end, knowing that kidnapping could be a very natural and frequent occurrence in his daily activities, she just let it go for an instant.

“I am Lucifer Morningstar.” He said, a little bit annoyed by now. After a pause, he continued. “Yes, the club owner. Oh, what an ambitious little man. I shall see you, then.”

After that, he hung up the phone.

“Lucifer! Was that the kidnapper?” Chloe asked.

“Yes.” Lucifer replied. He then looked at the phone in his hand with disgust and gave it back to Cruz.

“What do they want? Is Lindsay alive? Where are they? What did they say?” Chloe asked, without waiting for a reply.

“What they didn’t say is the most interesting part, darling. The man who called me didn’t recognize my name, but the lady that was with him did. That’s how he knew I own a club. Summing it up, I would say that this man and his lady accomplice targeted Lindsay for a very low motive. It’s vengeance against you Cruz, pure and simple.”

“You summed it up too much.” Chloe answered, on the verge of being infuriated again.

“Well, let’s see. Not knowing me by my devilish reputation puts them out of the highest circles of criminal activities or business in this city. Actually, either they are very dumb criminals, or they are your ordinary citizens running about and doing stupid things, which is the same in the end.  Now, that some of them know that I own Lux it’s quite revealing. This information is not public knowledge and to know this and not knowing further means that they somehow had access only to this bit of information. The most obvious place would be in a business such as yours, Cruz. Since they knew Lindsay was particularly important to you, and your life is really uninteresting for anyone, they know about your relationship because they know you. Probably work for you. So they should know one thing more: that you don’t have this type of money. So, why do all of this? They either wanted to hurt Lindsay or you. Or both. Since they have nothing to gain torturing you with ramsons if they target was truly and only Lindsay, I say they wanted you. Tell me, Carver. Do you have any ex-girlfriend who could be behind this?”

After Cruz took too long to answer, Lucifer waved his hand around.

“It does not matter, anyway. They gave me an address to trade the money for Lindsay.”

“Are you going to do it?” Cruz asked before Chloe could.

“Maybe, probably not.” Lucifer answered.

“Lucifer…” Chloe started. Once Lucifer looked at her direction, she fell silent.

“I know it must be a trap. They have a lot to gain in their cause if they can pin a murder to Cruz, don’t they? But to kill me, one of them must be there. That’s all I need.” Lucifer replied.

Chloe didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all. But what power did she have over him? Also, at this point, any interference on her part could very well mean Lindsay’s death.

“Do you have any proof that she is alive?” Chloe asked, at now grasping at straws.

“No. I’d like to say that they would not be so dumb to kill her, but maybe they are.” Lucifer answered.

Cruz sobs were loud enough to grasp their attention.

“You said you’d find her! That’s the deal.” He cried out.

“I will.” Lucifer replied, slightly offended.

“How can you? If you don’t even know if she is alive? If she is safe?” Cruz yelled.

“I did not say I would find her alive. I’ve never attested to her safety. Please do keep on.” Lucifer said. Before Cruz could say anything else, Lucifer turned on his heels.

“Time is of essence. If you’re done here, I’d suggest we start moving. We have less than one hour to arrive at the trade-place.”

Too tired to ask him why he didn’t say so earlier, Chloe just nodded and picked up his keys.

__________________________________

It clearly was not the best time to talk. Not with Lucifer accelerating the convertible in LA streets, not with her hair in every direction and the wind roaring against her ears. Not with Lucifer face once more hidden under his mask, muffling his voice and impairing the reading of any expression on his face. She asked anyway.

“You said that having Lindsay safe is a desire that Cruz could not afford. It sounded like it was something you could do if he had how to pay for it. Could you guarantee her safety?”

“Yes.” Lucifer replied.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Safety is a long-lasting condition. I have better things to do with my time than to be a guardian devil over some random soul.” He replied.

“Were you sure she was alive back then?”

“It’s irrelevant.” He replied. After a pregnant pause, he added. “But Carver does not have anything that he could exchange for a miracle.”

Chloe opted to not think about it too deeply. After all, Lucifer has asked her to hold on and accelerated further. He drove like a maniac. Maybe being, herself, alive at the end of this ride, was miraculous enough.

__________________________________

The trading place was a trap alright. As soon as they arrived, Lucifer was met with a gun pointed at his covered forehead. Chloe grabbed her gun and pointed it at their aggressor, but before any of them could say anything, they were interrupted by Lucifer’s laughter.

“Oh, this is surely precious. Don’t worry, Detective. He is alone.”

“And he has a gun pointed to your forehead!” She replied.

“So? Hey, you!” He said, snapping his fingers into the masked face of his aggressor. “Gun down, mask off.”

And then… As if compelled by an unseen force, the guy dropped the gun and hastily removed his mask. He was… He was Lindsay’s brother.

“Oh, that’s interesting.” Lucifer replied.

This time, Chloe didn’t need Lucifer to fill her in.

“Have you and Lindsay planned this together? Only to hurt Carver Cruz?” Chloe asked. When the guy nodded, Chloe added. “Where is Lindsay?”

“She has Carver.” The guy replied. Chloe gulped.

After some more questions (which Lindsay’s brother would answer only after giving Lucifer an expectant glance) Chloe learned that while the guy was sent to deal with Lucifer, who was frankly an unseen obstacle, Lindsay had sent Cruz a text with a new location for him to negotiate her life. Cruz life was at risk.

“Where is she?” Lucifer asked and was promptly given an address.

“Let’s go, Detective. I need to see if I’ve fulfilled my part of the deal.”

“Lucifer! What about Cruz’ life?”

“Was he part of the deal?” He asked. After looking at Chloe’s face for a full minute he sighed. “Oh, come on. I’m joking. Let’s see what we can do for him, right?”

“I’m calling back-up.” She replied. “And I need to call this in and secure the scene.”

Lucifer sighed again. “You do what you need to do. I’m going to fulfill my part of the deal.”

“Lucifer! Wait!”

But he was already gone.

__________________________________

Ten minutes later, after the first patrol car has arrived, Chloe discovered that Lucifer has left the Corvette behind. Chloe found the keys on her pocket. She wasted no more time driving to the new address.

__________________________________

She arrived at the scene to find Lucifer waiting for her in front of a house.

“Lindsay is inside, with Carver at gunpoint. They are otherwise alone. She is waiting for her brother to bring us in.” Lucifer said.

“Why didn’t you get in?” She asked him.

“I thought you would like to hear the confession bit. It’s your case after all.” He replied.

“It’s Dan’s case.” She added but was too amused for it to have any effect.

“Is it?” Lucifer asked.

“Come on. Let’s save Carver’s life.” She added.

Chloe tried the door handle, but it was locked. Just as she was trying to decide if it was better to force her way in or to knock on the door, Lucifer tried it and it opened without a fuss.

“You have a lot to explain later.” She added. Lucifer shrugged.

They entered. Chloe got Lindsay by surprise. Lindsay was handcuffed in less than ten minutes. She confessed easily enough: Carver has seduced her, a long time ago, apparently only to write a chapter on a stupid book of his. So she had endeavored on seducing him back. And now she was just doing her best to ruin his life while breaking his heart in the process.”

“Typical human mistake.” Lucifer said. “He promised more than he was willing to deliver. She read more promises than were actually made. But Lindsay, your punishment was very much disproportionate to his crime”

Lucifer crouched in front of Lindsay, his back turned to Chloe, and she had the impression of seeing a red flash. After that, all there was a Crying Lindsay on the floor and Lucifer saying to Cruz that his part of the deal was fulfilled.

Back-up arrived, secured the scene and took Lindsay away. Case properly closed, Chloe turned to Lucifer.

“So, what’s now?”

“The night is still young. What about those questions of yours?”

“Ok. My car is at Lux, anyway.”

“Lovely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and leaving such marvellous comments. As the needy author that I am, your comments always make my day.


	10. Decadent chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some desires are only fulfilled if properly expressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hello.
> 
> I know, it's being a very, very long time. I'm ashamed. I truly am. Just so you know what happened, I just got out of a very difficult and trying phase of my academic life. Nothing I was not expecting to, but overwhelming all the same. Add my erratic life to the fact that this was a very difficult chapter to write, and there you have a very slow and very ashamed writer to blame.
> 
> So, I do not even know if the warning applies this far in the fic, but be aware of sexy times.

With Lucifer’s benediction (and why was that so funny in her head?) Chloe drove the Corvette back to Lux. Damn, she would miss that car.

“So, this mask of yours?” She started.

“Detective?” He added, clearly amused.

“You put it on as soon as you left Lux or the Player’s Club. Are you uncomfortable in public?”

“Should I be?” He asked.

Chloe froze.

“Relax Detective. Is it really what you want to ask?”

“Well, yes. Why, do I have a question limit?”

“That would be interesting. If you only had one question though, you’d still ask that?”

Just then Chloe noticed that Lucifer was evading the question in the most obnoxious way possible, which was ridiculous because if he didn’t want to answer he could just say that. Lucifer chuckled at her silence and resigned himself to answer her.

“People get uncomfortable looking at my face. I just found it easier to not impose it on them. But well, when someone explicitly tells me to remove the mask… They actually asked for it.”

They asked for it. Like it was some kind of punishment to have to look at him. Like half of his face wasn’t still stunning. Like the other half wasn’t proof of survival, be his condition what it may be.

“You appear unconcerned about it on Lux, though.” She pondered.

“It would be rather ridiculous to mind my face on my own home, wouldn’t it?” He said. After a moment, he added. “People who come to the penthouse want something from me. Or at least they have met me before. Out here they will either mock me or pity me or just try and fail to ignore it. When they do talk to me… Well, you saw how it was. Being ostracized by strangers… It is not worth it.”

“Not worth what?” She asked, for once looking at him and not at the road. It was a good thing she had just stopped at a red light.

“Before you’ve come for Delilah, I’ve not left my penthouse for almost four years.”

The light turned green. Chloe forgot how to make the car move. Someone honked behind her.

“What changed?” She asked.

“You’ve made me a sandwich.”

His reply was so misplaced from the conversation that Chloe just could not process it. The car behind her honked again, so she took a deep breath and tried to focus on the road. It took her a second to remember how to operate the manual gear of the Corvette, but after one false try, she got the car moving again.

After a full minute in silence, when she could see Lux just around the corner and knew it was likely her last chance to ask, she did ask the thing she wanted to know about all else. What she would ask if she was indeed allowed only one more question:

“Why me? Why did you allow me to question you and not Dan? Not anyone else?”

“Daniel was interested in himself. You, Detective, was interested in Delilah.”

“You did catch Barnes all on your own.” Chloe added.

“Yes. But this is not the point since he was going to Hell anyway.” Lucifer murmured. “The point is that someone, you, wanted her justice. You loved her, even without knowing her. Now her soul can rest in peace.”

Chloe killed the engine. They have arrived at Lux and the Corvette was properly parked. The absence of the engine’s roar made her feel uncharacteristically empty.

“That’s why you made that deal with Cruz? Because you saw that he loved her?”

“Making deals is my _modus operandi_.” He replied.

“No, it is not. From what I’ve heard, your favors usually come with a very high cost. I’ve seen you asking for the souls of at least two people already. But with Cruz… You basically gave a favor for free.”

“No favor is ever for free or has a too high cost. There is a balance to be maintained.” He said.

Chloe looked at him for long enough that he must felt prompted to explain.

“People come to me and ask for something they think is so important to the point that they are willing to change their own soul for it. Of course a soul, in this case, is more like a devilish I.O.U. A coupon, one-time use only, to the morals and free-will of the individual. Can you imagine that? Wanting something so badly that you’d trade absolutely ANYTHING to have it? And if it is worth the most precious thing a person has, why should I not to ask for it?”

“But…”

“Well… Sometimes I have something in mind, of course.”

“So… What about today?”

Lucifer stayed quiet for long enough she thought he would not answer. Then he looked away and Chloe was certain that he was stopping the conversation at that point. If she was quite sincere with herself, which was a good thing to do at all time, maybe it was better that she didn’t know. Well, knowing more about his business was her work but sometimes ignorance is bliss.

“Today we had a deal.” He said.

Had they? Well, obviously they had one, but the deal was not for him to help her to solve the case. The deal was for him to put her inside that dreadful meeting.

“Speaking of it, now that the case is closed and the day is over I do believe we are even.”

“Are we?” She asked.

Lucifer looked at her. He then took a deep breath and removed the mask from his face. His hair was adorably mussed.

“Are you afraid of me, Detective?”

For one instant the immediate response was ‘hell yeah’ because come on, the guy was Lucifer Morningstar. But the way he was looking at her gave her pause. It was strangely open and sincerely concerned. Like the man himself has been all day, she suddenly realized. And then she noticed that for all the moments in which something he said has indeed frozen the blood on her veins along the day, for all the power that she had sensed coming from him, she wasn’t really afraid of him. She would gladly concede that she was indeed afraid of what he represented, of an urban legend, of a Devil living on the shadows of an empire sculpted in shadows. But she was not afraid of him. How could she? The man did nothing the whole day besides supporting her. Well, he had almost jeopardized her case, but then proceeded to solve it all by himself. At the end of the day, she could concede that the man was nothing like what she expected. And really, his hair was too adorable for her to be afraid of him right now.

“Should I be?” She asked, instead of answering.

Lucifer smiled, but it was a small, sad thing.

“Do you still want to come up?”

“I...” She started to say just to discover that she did not know the answer to that question. Part of her had the answer on the tip of her tongue. No, I can’t. It would be inappropriate and I have to think about Trixie and … Well, but none of that was true, was it? Because Trixie was with Dan tonight and she totally could stay. And then, part of her did want to go up, and it was rather a large part. She wanted to go up and ask more questions. She wanted to go up and bask in the unexpected warmth she discovered she felt at his side. She was pretty sure she wanted to accept a glass of wine or even of whiskey. If the tightness in between her tights was any indication, it would seem that she wanted other things too.

“Has the questions ended?” He asked. When Chloe took too long to answer, he added. “For celebratory drinks then? No strings attached?”

In the end, the answer was easy.

“Yes.”

Lucifer’s answering smile was equally as small as the previous one. He nodded at her and exited the car. Chloe followed. The ride up his penthouse was silent. Once they arrived, she passed him the key of the Corvette.

“I appreciated what you did today. Letting I drive, I mean.” She told him.

“Ok.” He said, putting the key on the bar counter. His leather gloves soon followed.

“I did not like it when you left me at Lindsay’s brother trap to rush to what could be another trap, but I do recognize that leaving the car behind was a considerate gesture.”

Lucifer was turned away from her. She noticed that he was now serving them doses of bourbon.

 “For what it is worth, I do apologize.” He said while extending one of the glasses to her.

She took it with no small amount of surprise.

“Just… Don’t do it again.” She said, not really knowing how to deal with the unexpected apology and taking a long sip of her drink.

“I… I’m not actually sure it would be possible for me to do it again. To my recollection, it did look like a one-time situation. Do you think Lindsay may try the move again when she leaves the prison?” He replied.

“It’s not…” How could Chloe explain to him that what she meant was ‘don’t leave me behind while you rush into a dangerous situation’? It was not like they would be working any cases together in the near future. Lamely, she added. “It is not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” He asked her.

What she meant was that she was worried about him. But would it be accepted? Actually, when did she become so… so mushy?

“Were you worried? Did you miss me?” He asked, warm lips right against her earlobe. Chloe didn’t remember him being so close.

Flustered, she tried to take a fortifying sip of her bourbon, only to discover that it was over. Not able to hide in the translucent glass, she took a deep breath. He was so close, however, that all she accomplished was to have her nostrils invaded by his scent. The reaction on her body was instantaneous. He smelled of expansive bourbon, decadent chocolate, and smoke. For one moment she would say that he smelled of cigarettes, but that would not be accurate. He actually smelled of incense. His scent promised pleasure and freedom, while at the same time it exulted desired and something sacred, holy, that Chloe couldn’t put together besides that impression of incense that permeated her senses.

Early that day, Mazikeen’s scent was like a prelude of sex, even if Chloe has never in her life been attracted to a woman before. It was something basic, something animal. Lucifer’s scent provoked a similar reaction, but it was something deeper.  It was something grander than the first cry of a violin, as Jana has put it. It felt like soaking in a hot bath after walking in the cold rain for too long. It was similar to eating a chocolate after years craving the stuff. And then she realized that he didn’t smell as chocolate at all. It was just that something in her craved him.

Without thinking about it, she deposited both hands over his chest, not noticing when she let the glass fall against the rug. When she let her head fall to gently nuzzle against the whole patch of skin behind his right ear, she did have a moment of ‘the fuck?’ before letting it slide. His scent was more important. His scent was all that mattered.

“Detective?” He asked. He didn’t move, though.

 “Is it ok? Can we do this? Please” She asked. Her hands were gently but frantically roaming against his clothed torso.

“There are rules.” He said.

That gave her pause. Rules, yes. She could focus on rules. She took a deep breath (wrong move!) and tried to recompose herself. She remembered something about no pulling his hair and no nails and no jewelry. The man was recovering so, ok. No rough sex, no hurting him. No problem. She could control herself. At least she thought she could.

“Chloe?” He tried to get her attention.

“Ok, rules.” She said, trying to focus on his words and not on his mouth. It was a nice mouth. One half displayed dry skin and the other half looked mangled and fragile but… His breath. She was pretty sure it would taste as sunlight filtering through a curtain of dark clouds.

“Whatever we do tonight, it will be initiated by you. That means that I will sit on that armchair over there and wait. I want you to take a deep breath and decide what you do want to happen tonight. If your desires do lay in the direction you are indicating right now and if you are comfortable enough to continue, you will have no problem taking your clothes off. No need for a performance, but strip off your clothes completely. That is non-negotiable.” He then gestured to his burns, in a gesture that Chloe understood meant that the friction of fabric against his skin would be a problem. “Then come to me and tell me exactly what you want to happen tonight, with as many details as you can. You will then take my clothes off. If we go that far, we can further negotiate things from there. Any indication that you don’t want what is happening and we stop. All right?”

Chloe nodded.

“I want you to say it.”

“All right.”

“Good.” He said, briefly caressing her cheek with his scarred hand. He then left her on the counter and walked to a random armchair, on the other side of the penthouse.

As promised, she took a deep breath, now free from his overwhelming scent. Suddenly she could think again. The desire to do that did not decrease, anyway. For all the reservations that she had, the prospect of freedom looked like a too sacred opportunity for her to let it pass. For the first time in her life, actually, it looked like she deserved a break. It was against every fiber on her body to contain himself, so she didn’t.

Slowly but surely, she steadily took her clothes off. Her jacket came off naturally, as well as her boots. Her shirt was halfway out when she remembered something.

“The records. Can you stop them?”

“Yes.” Lucifer replied.

From the corner of her eye, she saw something blinking red. Was that a remote control? Either way, she did trust him, and so kept undressing. Her blouse hit the floor, soon followed by her trousers. When she finally took off her bra and underwear, it felt like a rather natural occurrence. Not sexy at all, but thankfully also not awkward.

Walking to him was a different experience, though. The room was poorly lit, with the most of light coming from the windows and the bar, but she could see his form on that armchair perfectly well. Moreover, she could sense his eyes on her skin. From the very first clothe article she removed she was able to sense it. It has felt natural, not different than exposing her skin to air or sunlight. It felt like a caress. But now that she was walking, she knew it wasn’t only her bare skin that he was looking at. Somehow she knew that he was delighting in the way she moved, in the way she breathed. Right now he was memorizing her mannerisms, was learning about all of her. He was truly and simply appreciating her existence. At that moment, Chloe was certain that he could see her soul.

When she was near enough to, she fit in between his parted thighs. He was looking up at her eyes. He was smiling.

“Hello, dear.” He said to her.

She took one more deep breath and smiled.

“Hello.” She replied, moving her hands to caress both sides of his face.

He allowed the touch for some time, eyes closed, relaxing in it not different than a cat would. Just when Chloe was starting to ponder how often he was indeed touched with affection, he took both of her hands and let then rest over his heart. His heartbeats were calm and sure. For a moment, she felt like she was promised eternity.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“You.” She replied.

When he kept looking at her expectantly, she tried to elaborate.

“I don’t know. I talked to one of the Britannies and she kept talking about something with your fingers…”

He took one of her hands to his lips and kissed her palm. The movement gave her pause enough for her to start to muse if she had committed some kind of faux pas. Surely it was wrong to bring other people in between them? Would he be upset? Somehow, upsetting him sounded like some form of sacrilege. But she had thought so much about his hands (both of them, if she was honest) and he had such lovely, big, warm hands and…

“Britanny’s experience was tailored to her desires. Let’s focus on yours.” He replied, simply.

Chloe had to bit her lip to not tell him that right now all she wanted was not to upset him. Something in her face must have alerted him of her thinking, though, because he gently raised his damaged hand from where it was resting over hers on his chest and caressed a lock of her hair.

“Tell me what you want, with the words you have.” He replied.

“I want the sunlight.” She blustered and was instantly ashamed.

For one fleeting instant, he looked confused. And why would he not? But then he visibly shook himself and focused on her eyes once more.

“I…” Choe tried to amend what she said but didn’t have the words.

“It’s been… It’s been a very long time since someone asked that from me.” He replied, gaze lost in somewhere between her earlobe and the lock he was still holding. “So, how does the sunlight make you feel? Warm? Comforted? Alive?”

Her answer to that was straightforward enough.

“Cherished.”

He looked at her in surprise once more but didn’t say anything. Chloe had a passing thought if he had discussed all of it with Jana since in her mind it had looked like she just arrived, stripped and climbed directly on his cock. Well, to be fair, she hadn’t wanted to look too closely that day (liar).

He then closed both of his eyes, nodded and, after giving her palm on more kiss, placed both of her hands against the lapels of his leather jacket.

He maintained his eyes closed while she divested him of it.

While getting her only clothes off had felt like the less sexy thing in the world, baring his skin was probably the most sensual thing she had ever done. So far, with only his jacket gone, all she had revealed was the skin of his forearms. In her mind, she knew it wasn’t much. It wasn’t so uncommon to see a man with bared forearms (especially in LA), nor his were the nicest she has ever seen (or were they?). She had seen him completely naked early that day, after all, and kind of knew what was waiting for her (his best features certainly lay lower than his arms). Even so, that bit of skin, bared by her own doing, was tantalizing in ways she could not describe. Without really realizing what she was doing, she leaned into his space, almost climbing on his lap, and started to mouth and lick the skin of his right wrist.

She was almost on his elbow when he stopped her with a gentle caress on her scalp.

Clothes. Right.

Taking the short sleeved black t-shirt off of him was a little bit weird, mainly because the fabric had caught in the bandages covering his navel. She was just thinking about how much more glorious it would be if he was wearing a bottom down, so she could reveal the skin of his chest bit by bit while freeing him of it when the fabric went and caught and she was invaded by a small moment of panic instead. Her only consolation was that he didn’t react to it.

After the offending piece of cloth was off (thrown away somewhere over her head), Chloe had a moment of indecision in between going for his belt or bandages. She caressed the skin around one of the white things, noticing how the skin to the right side was still pale and healthy, while the other was a scarred mess of darkened skin.

“You can leave them on if you prefer it. But the wounds must be closed by now.” He said.

Curious, she did start to remove them, only to notice that she would have to remove his belt and open his fly to do it. Doing that was somehow less intimate than baring his arms had been, but she let the thought slide easily, as focused on his stomach as she was.

The dressings came off easily, whatever was holding them in place obviously weak enough as to not damage the skin around the wounds once the bandages were not necessary anymore. Just as promised, there were no visible wounds besides the dressings, just more scars that looked years old and blended perfectly with the ones on his left side.

The only thing that impeded her to lean down and kiss the new scars was the fact that the dressings she was holding were smeared with dried blood. It seemed a little bit gross. While she was lost in that thought, Lucifer took the things from his hands and placed them somewhere to be disposed of later. She didn’t care. However, now free of them, she could focus again on his skin. There was no dried blood on him, she noticed.

“Do you want to continue?” He asked.

She nodded. At his silence, she leaned over him to caress the skin under his navel. That impression of chocolate once again invaded her senses. When he gently put his hand over her scalp, she had a sudden urge to kneel at his feet and take him in her mouth. At that moment, if his touch had been just a bit more assertive, she gladly would have sucked him off. A mixed image of both Mazikeen and Jana permeated her thoughts.

But the thing is, he wasn’t more assertive and didn’t give her any indication that it was what he wanted right now. And even if he would allow her to touch and caress the bits of skin she had bared so far, he would always stop her at some point, one way or another reminding her that her objective was to get his clothes off. For now.

Since she was midway in the position already, she did kneel on the floor. But instead of taking his jeans off, she went for the shoes. Once they were off, she went for the socks. His bare feet were strangely intimate once again, and she couldn’t resist the urge to caress one of his ankles, letting the touch go up to grip at one of his lean calves. She remembered how he tensed the first time she tried to touch him there. He wasn’t tensing now. Looking up at his closed eyes, he seemed as relaxed as he would get. Looking back at his fly, she noticed something important: as aroused as she was with the whole experience, having her naked and divesting him was apparently doing nothing for his own libido. That was… That was unexpected, to say the least. He could get hard, couldn’t him? Would he? Were the scars to blame? Was… Was she to blame?

Like he sensed her inner turmoil, he gently pushed her back away from him and stood up. For all that the dark jeans were fitted to him, with the belt open and the fly undone, it fell off his legs to pool on the floor. When Chloe looked up from his feet to his bare legs, from his fitted underwear that let her see clearly his still soft dick against his groin to the skin of his chest, she noticed that he had extended her his healthy hand. She took it and was promptly helped to her feet.

She was standing so near him that she was almost lost to the skin over his breastbone. Why did he need to be so tall? Not wanting to look further up and having neck pain for the whole week, she instead chose to look down.

Okay, one piece more off.

She grabbed the waistband of his underwear and slid it off of him, mid-tight. After that, it fell soundless to the floor.

She was just thinking about how strange was her lack of need to see the new patch of skin she has uncovered, when she was suddenly in the air, being effortless suspended by his arms, one just below her buttocks, another bracing her back. Now she had to look slightly down to be able to see his eyes.

“Bed?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Before she could form another thought, she was gently being laid down against soft sheets. His eyes over her face everything she could focus on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all for your love and support.


	11. Sunlight and raging fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author does not know what to say, so she will let the chapter speak for itself.

Chloe has been objectified before (taking your top off in front of the cameras, not a good decision). Chloe has been treated as a trophy before. Chloe has felt desired. Chloe has even felt loved before. But in all her existence, Chloe was never worshipped before. Not like this. Not even close.

When the last piece of Lucifer’s clothing fell off his body, everything became a blur of sensations. For a fleeting moment she was worried she was not enough, that he was too hurt and she too rusty for anything but bad sex. That that smell of decadent chocolate would not be enough to satiate her senses. She should have known better.

Because as soon as she did what he asked from her, he endeavored to do what she asked of him. He endeavored to give her the sunshine.

She was laid against soft sheets like she was more precious and more fragile than Swarovski crystal. To him, she didn’t seem to weight more than one, too. He was strong. So much stronger than even a healthy man of his stature should be. And if that didn’t stir something primal within her very core, the way both of his eyes looked at her did. That feeling that he was looking into her very being before? It was nothing like the feeling she had when he looked at her now. It didn’t feel like he was trying to know her soul anymore. It felt like he already knew her, have always known her and was now just calmly contemplating the vastness and the beauty of what made her - an old sailor looking lovingly at the sea.

And just from that, just from the weight of his eyes, she already felt unique.

Right when his gaze was becoming to be too much, he decided that it was high time he touched her properly. His lips moved to lightly kiss and mouth at her neck, while his hands started to gently massage at her sides.

When she moved to her breasts Chloe had the distinct impression he was doing it for her and not for him. And wasn’t that somehow a marvel experience? Since taking that damn top off it was like every bloke around was obsessed with being the one who could touch her like that. But her breasts were not more tantalizing than her neck had been and neither did he spend longer there than he did at her ribs, her belly. He seemed to be a bit enthralled with the smell and taste of her skin. Just when he reached her hips, he stooped. Chloe let out a whine that had more with the absence of his mouth on her than the logical next place he would touch.

Lucifer looked up then, smiled a small but smug smile, and went back to kissing her stomach, while his strong hands found the back of her thighs. When he raised her legs over his shoulders, though, Chloe arched her back in reflex and felt a small stab of pain against the lower part of it. Lucifer must felt something shifting in her because he immediately stopped. This time, the way he looked at her was more worried than smug.

“I…” She tried to find a way to explain that she was a single mother with a stressful job who didn’t have the time or the will to stretch regularly and also had the bad habit to sit all bend to read at her computer and who didn’t get some sore muscles sometimes?

But apparently, she didn’t have to. Lucifer just sighed against the skin at her inner thigh, placed a small kiss where was closest to him and adjusted their positions so she was comfortable in bed again.

“I apologize. Your smell is… Alluring.” He said.

She had just opened her mouth to ask why he was apologizing when she felt his hands pressing lightly against her lower back. Such strong, big and unexpectedly warm hands.

She was just wondering if it did any difference which hand he was using (would she be able to feel it if she didn’t know one of his hands was scarred?) when she noticed that she was not on her back anymore. The flip has been so smooth, so natural, that she didn’t even have to adjust to the new position. She nuzzled against the pillow for good measure, anyway.

Lucifer took some time to press his hands against her back, massaging knots and accumulated tension away. He went up, now and then leaving small kisses against her spine or the sides of her ribs, until he reached her shoulders. The muscles there were so locked up, for so long, that she actually forgot they were hurting her. His touch wasn’t painful, though. With each movement, he rubbed warmth into sore muscles. Sunlight, just as she had asked from him.

Sunlight, accompanied by a raging fire from within.

A small eternity later, when everything was fuzzy and smooth and discomfort was such a distant memory, he leaned against her ear, gently nibbling at her earlobe.

“Better?”

Chloe muttered an incoherent affirmative.

“Do you still want to keep going?” He asked.

Chloe chuckled. Because really? If that wasn’t the most gently and focused section of foreplay she had ever had, she didn’t know what that was. And when, in her most delirious dreams, had she fantasized about a man who was utterly content with foreplay? Who would happily drop everything just to let her sleep against his sheets? The answer was simple, she hasn’t. She wasn’t doing it right now either.

Because that fire? It hadn’t lessened.

She slowly turned around, giving him time to stop her if he so desired. He didn’t, so she leaned into him and placed her lips against his. The kiss started gentle but was soon enough desperate. The taste of him was intoxicating, just like his smell had been. Alluring, just like he said her smell was. Good, at least they were on the same page.

Soon enough she was again on her back, Lucifer body looming over hers. At that moment she could very well believe the space in between her arms was all that existed.

She could swear he was all that existed. All that she needed. All she would ever need.

One moment, to last for the eternity. 

His descent along her body was faster than the first time, but no less arousing because of it. This time, when he positioned himself in between her thighs and raised her leg to rest over his shoulders, the movement was easy. Her back once again arched in response, but it was natural. Good even.

Which was a damn good thing too; because when his tongue made contact with her inner lips maintaining the position was all she could do to avoid exploding.

Chloe lost the track of both time and her thoughts while he licked, probed, and sucked at her, all the while alternating caresses along her thighs, hips, and belly. Sometime along it, she noticed that he had decided that his hands were at a better use supporting her lower back at the angle she had frozen at some time ago. He didn’t need to bother, but knowing that it was entirely for her made something inside of her to expand. She would never be certain if it was when this something got bigger than her skin or the particularly skilled move of his tongue that made her climax, but right now it didn’t make any difference at all.

If she was quite sincere with herself, nothing mattered right at that moment. Although she could still feel his mouth against her, provoking delightful aftershocks of her quite spectacular orgasm, that barely registered at her consciousness right now. Even breathing had acquired a strangely unimportant undertone. Existence has briefly lost its meaning. What remained was a deep sense of nothingness, the like she had never been able to grasp before. A sense of a not-thing infinite, bigger than life, bigger than the universe, with the inescapable feeling of something life-changing to happen.

But suddenly she was again against black sheets, struggling to control her breathing. Lucifer was kneeling at her feet, resting his weight over his scarred heels like yoga poses were an everyday occurrence while in bed, absentmindedly massaging her calves.

“Hello, darling.” He said. “Where have you gone?”

“I…” She was not sure. She guessed she had gone _nowhere_ , in the sense that nowhere was a place totally disconnect from _here_.

He pressed against a particularly painful spot at her leg, and she could not control what came out from her mouth.

“Do you give full-body massages to all of your lovers?”

He promptly stopped with his gentle but painful ministrations (she hadn't known she was so tense), his eyes now more focused on her face. He then looked away from her, skipping all of her naked skin to stop at her feet, currently on his lap. At this angle, she could see only the unbroken side of his face. He looked conflicted. Before Chloe could grasp exactly which part of what she said that was so wrong as to provoke that reaction on him, though, he gently raised one of her feet to place a gentle kiss against the instep.

“I guess I didn’t focus on you enough if you’re thinking about other people right now.” He said, more to her foot in front of him than to her.

Then in one swift move, he pulled both of her legs, making she slid on the sheets until her hips came to rest over his thighs. He leaned forward, and just when Chloe was preparing herself to have him looming over her again he wrapped his arms under her upper back and lift himself to once again sit on his heels, that time bringing her with him, secured against his chest.

When he was finished with that display of easy strength, she found herself sitting on his lap. Once again held at a higher height, she had to look down gaze inside his eyes.

Inside the glass one, she once again got that impression of waiting for a life-changing event. She lost it when he blinked.

“What do you want?” He asked her.

For one moment, she was tempt to answer that she wanted that life-changing event that happened on the infinite nothingness of before. But that sounded even stupider on her mind than wanting the sunlight had. She relaxed against him, feeling solid muscle and inexorable strength under his too soft skin. Then the answer was clear.

“I want to be desired.”

Because all was beautiful and good on her end of it, but she couldn’t shake the sense that he wasn’t really into the moment. Not without any visible reaction on his body.

He looked at her strangely once again, like he was perplexed by the idea that she didn’t feel desired in the first place. Feeling bold, she took the opportunity to wriggle on his lap, taking care to rub against his still soft manhood.

He looked down at her body, apparently grasping what she meant, and then looked back up. He still looked slightly confused but then shrugged, like he was resigned to the mysterious ways of her mind and bend down to once again attack her skin with his mouth.

His touch was so different from the first time it was almost like he had turned into someone else.  The only thing assuring Chloe that he was still the same man was that fucking not-there-but-overwhelming chocolate scent. This time, he alternated between the skin at her breastbone with broad strokes of his tongue and rasping his teeth against her breasts and throat, in an almost bite that was clearly contained just enough to avoid hurting her. His right hand remained against her back to support her weight, while the scarred left one went about to roam against her thighs and butt. His behavior was so different, so borderline animalistic in contrast to that exquisitely gentle being he had been just moments ago, that for an instant she wondered what she had gotten herself into.

But then she felt him harden under her, at the exact same time she registered that his scent has flared into something else. That undertone of incense was still present, but the not-there-chocolate was replaced by something she could not totally grasp, but if asked she would say that was close to apples with cinnamon, albeit not smelling like it in any way.

Later on, when she would remember it, she would say that was the smell of the prohibited fruit.     

If his smell was intoxicating before, it was all consuming now.

She felt that overwhelming sense of infinite invading her again but this time she was able to contemplate it while still being able to sense him against her.

When he held her higher, apparently by just supporting her bottom with his scarred palm, her arms immediately went to his neck. She felt the tip of his erection rubbing against her clitoris, and her instant reaction was to grab at the short hair at the base of his skull.

He moaned at her touch. Feeling bold, she moved her hands down, to lightly scratch at his upper back.

He flinched and the world stopped for a second.

Just when she noticed what she had done, he took the hand supporting her back to gently place one of her hands on his shoulder. She mimicked the movement with her other hand. He nodded in approval and then returned his arm to the previous position, using it to lower her upper half slightly away from his body. Before she could complain about the absence of his heat against her skin though, she noticed his eyes focused on hers. The world stopped once again, turning into the vast nothingness from before.

He penetrated her, never looking away from her eyes. His scared hand roamed all over her body, the contrast of his dark skin against her pale one strangely satisfying, while his trust increased in depth and rate.

When her orgasm came, it was all-consuming. And then she understood: that life-changing event? It was creation. The nothingness became flooded with light, paradoxically creating darkness in its existence.

She let go of her meager being to join that darkness and went still.

__________________________________

Gentle sunlight filtered through her eyelids and for one moment she didn’t now way there was such a thing like waking up. Then she remembered: she was a person, not floating nothing at a horizon event. She existed.

Then reality crashed against her and she shook her head against the absurdity of all that. Taking a too long instant to remember where she was, she finally left the bed, looking around for her clothes and her companion.

Not finding Lucifer but remembering her clothes were left out near the bar, where she stripped for him, she wrapped herself into a sheet and walked away from the bedroom. When she finished dressing herself, she looked at the direction of the elevator, thinking if it would be rude to leave without saying goodbye if he wasn’t even there for her to tell him that, when she found, in all of his robed glory, placing a jar of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table near the counter. The scene was strangely familiar, with scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, sliced fruit, coffee and even pancakes laid out for a breakfast that could feed at least six people. She looked around, and sure enough, the bottle that was almost full yesterday was now with almost ¾ of it consumed. The sense of déjà vu was unshakable.

“Good morning. Hungry?” He asked her while sitting and pouring himself a mug of coffee.

She should be, mainly considering the delicious smell of the food in front of her. She was actually ravenous after missing dinner and all their nocturnal activity. But something was bothering her.

Trying to reign into her feeling, she sat down, picking up a mug of coffee and a bit of egg with a toast. Superb, just as she expected it to be. Nonetheless, her stomach protested at it.

Trying to grasp what was wrong, she looked around once more, just to focus on Lucifer, idling waving his coffee mug around.

“Aren’t you hungry?” She asked him.

“A bit, yes.” He answered, lowering his mug to look at her.

“So, why won’t you eat?”

“This is for you.” He said, and then poured himself another coffee.

Chloe, always a Detective, discerned it as the utter bullshit it was. She glared at him, and he visibly folded under her gaze.

“It tastes like ashes to me. Not alluring enough to try to satiate a hunger that never goes away, anyway.”

That gave her pause. How could that marvelous food taste like ash to him? Was it part of his condition?

“What about the coffee then?”

“Caffeinated ash. Not tasty, but the results are effective.”

Then it clicked. That feeling of wrongness? It was because all that there was on that breakfast table was for her. Everything since the beginning of their case the previous day had been for her. His deliberate choice of clothes, the way he handled the case, the way he touched her at night. Suddenly it was clear that the favor he did conceded Cruz was also for her. Because _she_ wanted Lindsay to be safe. Even his arousal last night had been for her.

Nothing for him. He didn’t ask anything for himself. She, on the other hand, asked everything from him. She asked about his past, she asked for his attention. She asked for his love and then asked for his desire. And he delivered the ghost of it, making her as unique as any of his lovers.

All of them, unique while equal in his eyes.

She couldn’t even remember if he had climaxed last night along with her. And that was important at that moment. Because if he hadn’t it would feel too much like she had used him.

“Did you come last night?”

He looked at her, mouth slightly open, mug raised in the air.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, unsure.

“If it happened I missed it. Did you climax last night? What happened after I fell asleep?”

She knew he hadn’t climaxed inside of her. The lack of dried sperm on her body and the sheets was telling enough. He was still reluctant in answering her.

He then started to speak, slowly, like he was afraid of her reaction.

“I didn’t do anything to you without your consent if that is what you are worried about…”

“Lucifer. What happened after I fell asleep?” She asked once more, almost at the limit of her patience.

“I laid you back on the bed, covered you up and left you to sleep. You looked like you needed it.”

“And then?”

“I… Well, the short version of it is that I went to the living room to read for a while, then I made you breakfast?” He said, the louder ending of his phrase making it sound like a question.

“So you didn’t come last night?” She summarized.

“No.” He admitted quietly.

The world shifted against its axis and then settled in a very ugly reality: inadvertently, she had used him. And he let her do it as he had done with Jana, the Britannies, maybe also Linda. Like he probably let any of his lovers.

And then an ever uglier truth was clear to her. That it disgusted her not because it was ugly in itself, but because she wanted it to not be true so she could feel like a better person. Like a person capable to accept him despite his appearance. Like the goody-two-shoes she always tried to show the world.

It sickened her to her stomach.

She bolted from the table to the bathroom just in time to not vomit on his pristine dark floors. After she emptied the meager contents of her stomach and washed her face with cold water, she took some minutes to try to regulate her breathing. It was not an easy task.

When she left the bathroom, ten solid minutes later, she found him still sitting at the breakfast table, empty coffee-mug in hand.

“I… I apologize if I did not…” He started to say, not looking at her.

She knew what it must have looked to him. She also knew that he deserved more from her. He deserved her very own apology. He deserved an explanation. He deserved someone better.

But she wasn’t someone better and could not deal with this right now.

All she could do was stand there, frozen, while he raised his eyes, looked briefly at her, nodded, closed his eyes again and spoke, in a subdued and resigned voice.

“Goodbye Detective. Thank you for your time.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but the words did not come.

He left his position at the table, passed through her and called the elevator. Not waiting for it to arrive, he came back on the same path, standing in front of her.

“Feel free to come to me if you ever need anything.” He replied.

He looked conflicted for an instant and then leaned into her space to place a chaste kiss against her cheek.

He turned around to vanish into his vast penthouse just as the elevator chimed its arrival.

Chloe left the building and the man behind, feeling rather numb.

 


	12. Long built affection with an aftertaste of apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chloe goes back to apologize, get some more answers and maybe annoys the devil on the process. But not really matters.

A whole week passed since the last time she saw Lucifer. True to his word (even if she never asked it from him) he stayed away, back to the shadows in which he seemed to live. And life went on.

A pattern has been established though, and she did not like it. The days she was with Trixie it was a constant battle for her to make the child eat something in the mornings. She asked about that belly ache, but the child was adamant she just didn’t want to eat now and would eat later. Since Trixie did eat dinner alright, Chloe wasn’t overly worried. She would leave Trixie at school, go to the precinct, do some paperwork, solve some murders, pick Trixie up, make dinner, read a story and that was it. That was the expected part of her day, anyway. Because every other night, after Trixie was already asleep, Chloe would open a wine bottle. The sweet bite of the fermented grapes was not enough to subdue the sudden emptiness that would slowly but surely engulf her.

Trixie has passed the last night with Dan. Chloe spent the night with her wine bottle, drowning on her own mind.

She knew she should let it go, she knew that after all this time it was better if she left and gave the man some space. But there was something so fundamentally wrong with such a powerful man being so… She couldn’t even categorize what it was that he was so.

He had aimed to please her, she had used him. Ok, that part she could grasp and was really ashamed of, but… Why had he aimed to please her? Why did he let her use him? It was clear to anyone that Lucifer exudes power. His very presence is domineering enough that had he given her an opening, she would have begged for his attention and an opportunity for her to please him instead.

None of it made sense. Not in her mind, not in her heart.

There was something fundamentally wrong with the situation that resonated with her gut, with her very soul.

Wrong.

She just couldn’t grasp if the wrong part of it was her.

So, after a whole week of drowning in the wrongness of it all, she had decided to confront the situation one more time. Worst case scenario, Lucifer would not receive her and she at least would have closure.

Most likely scenario, he would receive her to say he wanted space from now on and she would at least have an opportunity to say she was sorry before doing so.

Best scenario… She didn’t want to think about that.

“Hey, Dan.” She said to her ex-husband, currently talking to the detective next desk. “I’ve got some stuff to do. You will take Trixie after school, right?”

“Yeah yeah. It’s my turn.” He replied, waving a hand at her but not properly looking at her direction.

“Good. Make sure she eats something healthy for dinner. Actually, had she eaten breakfast today?” She asked, picking up her things from her desk.

“I made her eggs.” He replied and then went back to talk to the other detective.

What she wanted to know was if Trixie has eaten said eggs but… Ok. Chloe, too anxious with her near future to buy that fight, let the question go.

She sent a text to that number Mazikeen texted her previously, to let them know she was coming and then went out of the precinct.

On her way, she remembered another day, in which she had decided to bring him some sandwiches and late of him saying that all food tasted like ashes. However, he seemed to appreciate coffee on both occasions (caffeinated ash, as he had said) and so she thought that it would not hurt to bring him a cup of coffee.

She parked at her favorite dinner, that one her father would bring her after school on Thursdays, and asked for two lattes for travel. Meredith, the same waitress who served them when Chloe was a kid, now in her mid-sixties and the owner of the establishment, gave the cups to her with a smile on her face. Chloe smiled back, taking that small gesture of affection as armor. She would need it.

She was already at Lux when she checked her phone to see nobody had answered her. Ok, that was actually expected. Taking a deep breath, she entered the club and went to talk to the guy near the elevator. Before she could open her mouth, the guy started to say:

“Miss Decker? Came to see the boss?”

“Yeah. Do you think…”

“Well, I believe he is occupied now, but… Well, what do I know? The elevator is still over there.” He said, pointing to said elevator.

Rather speechless, Chloe decided to just go to the penthouse and freak out about her free-pass thing still being a thing later.

When the elevators doors opened to the poorly lit penthouse, Chloe’s first reflex was to close the doors and go back down, for she could hear a very feminine and enthusiastic moan echoing through the walls. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that she saw Lucifer, fully dressed in a dark three pieces suit, out of his balcony. The moment she arrived he was looking down the city of angels, the next one he was looking directly at her.

“Hello, Detective. I was actually thinking about you.” He said, in a low murmur that carried louder than the rhythmic litany of ‘yes’ and ‘harder’ and ‘oh’ being yelled from his bedroom.

So, either he was watching very realistic porn in a very high volume or there was actually someone nearing their orgasm in his bed and he was just out of his balcony, thinking of her? Should she be grossed out?

He seemed to understand her confusion because he soon amended.

“I’ve been thinking about you nearly constantly later, the present situation notwithstanding.”

Having been somewhat placated and shamed at the same time and not understanding why his words had that effect on her, she chose to join him on the balcony. Even if she could hear him perfectly, she really wasn’t in the mood to shout her answers.

Once at his side, she raised the container with the latte mugs to his direction. He arched one (the only) defined eyebrow to her, but took one mug wordlessly.

“I know caffeinated ash is not going to be enough as an apology but…” She started to say, but in between not really knowing what to say and the expression on Lucifer’s face when he took the first sip of the latte, she stalled.

Lucifer had closed both of his eyes, like the taste of that latte was something that reminded him of safe and warm places. Even his hands were holding the mug a bit more tightly; like that warmth was something he was missing.

“The person who did this to you loves you very much.” He said, eyes still closed.

Chloe only looked at his face for a moment, thinking about lovely Meredith, who served her almost all Sundays of her youth and so many of her adulthood. Who was at her Christmas list and loved Trixie almost like the kid was one of her grandchildren.

“How do you know?” She asked.

“It tastes like long built affection”.

“I thought it all tasted like ashes to you.”

“My food does.” He said. “Food is sacred. It is a gift from God to humanity, so they knew they were cared for, loved. Cherished. I am no longer in between those blessed with his Grace.”

One more sip of latte. “So I’m left tasting other’s intentions.”

“And how does long built affection tastes like?” She asked.

“Like coffee, I imagine. I always wanted to know how coffee tasted like.” He replied.

Chloe was not certain if she believed him or not, but she did believe he believed himself at that moment.

And what he believed was sad. It was also so coherent with his behavior in general that it put their night together in another perspective: if he could only feel what he perceived in other people, why would he seek pleasure for himself?

“I came here to apologize.” She said.

“I know.” He replied. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” She said. “I meant what I… It’s not something you’ve done wrong, it’s just…”

“Detective, I know.” He said, now looking at her with both a healthy and a glass eye. “I’ve tasted it from your skin, then at the air the other day. I know, and I understand.”

It should have tranquilized her. It didn’t.

“Lucifer. I don’t think you do.” She said. Because if he thought he deserved what happened, that it was something to do with how he looked like or…

“You think you’ve hurt me. You didn’t.” He said. He then looked out to L.A. “You’re also worried about if wanting to be good makes you a bad person. In my cultured opinion, it makes you nothing more than a worried person. Worried people usually think about their actions in order to avoid hurting people. They improve. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, anyway.”

Chloe didn’t have an answer to that. Just when the silence was becoming awkward, right when she felt like she had to say something, anything really, a particularly loud scream interrupted the moment.

“What’s going on there?” She asked.

“That, I believe, was the would-be-Mrs. Barnes getting the best orgasm of her life.” Lucifer replied. At Chloe’s stunned silence, he elaborated. “I thought you knew that Mazikeen interrupted Barnes wedding. His bride came over this morning.”

“Why aren’t you there, then?” Chloe asked.

“She didn’t come for me.” He replied. “Well, that’s not true, since she made all her way to the penthouse. But I do think she was not pleased with my presently crispy state and opted to lay with Mazikeen instead.”

“Why do you think so?” Chloe asked.

“Her exact words when she saw me was ‘Oh, you’re quite different than what I was expecting.’ And then she showed me a picture of myself on Google from five years ago. It was rather entertaining, I admit.”

Entertaining? How could that be entertaining? Chloe asked so.

“She acted like I didn’t know two-thirds of my body is covered in deep scars.”

Before Chloe could say anything to him, Lucifer smiled that half smile in her direction, effectively hinting it was all he was willing to talk about the subject.

“So, two beautiful women are having sex at your bed and you’re out here, looking at the precipice and thinking about me?” She asked, later realizing she changed an uncomfortable subject to an even worse one.

“They did invite me to watch.” He replied, and that smile took hold of his entire mouth. It was unnatural. It looked forced. It looked like it hurt his damaged skin. Why did he keep forcing that expression?

“Why aren’t you there then?”

“I stayed a bit if it is what you’re asking.” He said.

That was not what she was asking, but then again, she didn’t really know what kind of answer she wanted. She looked at him and noticed the empty cup on his fingers. Her cup was still full and in the container, untouched.

“Do you want to have this one as well?” She asked him, raising the container in his direction.

“It was made for you, you should have it.” He replied.

“I don’t mind.”

“I do. Long built affection, lost but always remembered loved ones, warm Sunday mornings and an aftertaste of an apology are good enough for a coffee. An extra side of pity will be a bit too much.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes once again. “We are good, Detective. You don’t have to try so hard. It’s too close to lying. It’s disconcerting.”

Chloe nodded, but Lucifer wasn’t looking at her.

Then she realized something: if he didn’t want her to try; if he didn’t want her to have opinions about how people treated him; if he didn’t want her to pity him, why share all this information?

“Why tell me about would-be-Mrs. Barnes reaction to you if you don’t want me to show you simple human decency?”

“I’m not human.” He replied.

“Well, I am.” She said, now rather annoyed.

That somehow got his attention. “Yes. You are.” He said in almost awe, looking directly at her.

And that was the exact moment her phone started to vibrate on her pocket. For one instant, she thought about ignoring it, but she was at service. She needed to take it. But as soon as she got her phone out, the call had disconnected. It was from Trixie’s school.

“You should start moving Detective,” Lucifer said. “If you go now, you will be already in your car once they call you again.”

Chloe looked at Lucifer, uncomprehending. She was going to ask him what he meant, but he beat her to it.

“ **Go.** ” He simply said, in dozens of harmonics and a so commanding that Chloe was already descending with the elevator when she noticed what she was doing. Cup of coffee inadvertently forgotten behind.

That’s when the school called back.

There has been an accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all the beautiful people who left comments and kudos: you're my strength. Thank you.


	13. Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chloe understands why someone would give the Devil anything.

Dan arrived hours late. He was working, he said. I didn’t catch your message. I did not see your call. Bullshit.

Now he was sitting at a pathetic small plastic chair, crying his eyes out while holding a rosary and uttering prayers in a low murmur. People passed near him and looked at him with charity. They offered him vague comfort words and solidarity.

No father should pass through what he was passing. No father should see their children die.

Chloe has no more tears to cry. No more prays to utter.

Now she just sits there, cold cup of coffee in hand, eyes red but dry, a mind too long numb suddenly in overdrive.

An old nun, that just a moment ago patted Dan’s back, gives her a hard stare. That look asks ‘how is it that a mother is not affected by the loss of a child? How could a wife be so insensitive to the pain of her husband?’ Chloe glares back for half a second and then decides the nun is not important. She continues to stare ahead, however, because she has nowhere else to look.

Her baby was dying, slowly fading away, and the medical staff has told her to be prepared. To pray, if she believed. She never believed in God.

A particularly loud sob from Dan forced Chloe to open her eyes. She didn’t notice she had closed them.

Having to tell Dan what happened was just as painful as hearing it the first time.

The principal was formal enough. _“Trixie fought with a senior girl. It looks like she kicked the girl, who pushed her away. Trixie fell from the stairs. We brought her to the hospital immediately.”_

Trixie’s teacher not so much. “ _So much blood! She looked like a broken doll. I… I do hope she is going to be alright._ ”

The senior girl’s parents were obviously too worried about their daughter to say anything to Chloe.

Dan was a late mess of tears as soon as he heard the news. _“How could this happen? Why would God do it to a child?_ ”

Why indeed?

But it was her fault, wasn’t it? She knew something was wrong with Trixie. It should have been easy to figure out she was being bullied on the school. She should have done something. She should have been more alert.

Trixie shouldn’t have been at school at such a late hour. If she just wasn’t so worried about a delusional secluded man living in the shadows…

But no. It was Dan’s day with Trixie. He was supposed to have taken her from school hours early. Had an accident not happened, would Dan be also this late?

Would he be a better or a worse father then? Would the nun look at her with more sympathy then?

Dan rocked on his chair, probably starting a new round of prayers on his rosary.

And here was Chloe, sitting on a pathetic small plastic chair, holding a cold cup of coffee, too numb to pray or cry, while her only child was fading away.

“Even if she lives,” the doctor had said some twenty minutes early. “There will be sequels. The brain stayed too long without oxygen. But the chances are slim, you should prepare yourself to say goodbye. Pray, if you believe.”

Chloe has never believed in God.

But if believing was the only chance Trixie had, she would.

Without saying anything, she stood from her chair, grabbed her keys and drove to Lux.

She would believe. For Trixie, she would do anything.  

   __________________________________

 

The ride to the penthouse has passed in tones of gray. All colors turned into light contrast. All sounds were muted. The first thing that would truly register in Chloe’s mind since taking that phone call this afternoon was the ping the elevator made when it arrived at Lucifer’s living room. After that, sound invaded her conscious mind in an all-encompassing way. Color had still to follow.

For here was Lucifer: jacket discarded over the tangerine couch but otherwise dressed in the same dark clothes of this afternoon, playing a deep and sorrowful melody on his piano.

“Nocturnes”. He said without turning to her. His eyes were closed. His fingers danced through the keys like possessed. “Chopin”.

‘ _Why are you sad?_ ’ She wanted to ask. What in the world could have made him sad here? Protected from the world by the walls of his penthouse and his isolation? What could have been there, in the world, greater than her pain, anyway?

She stayed silent.

“What was her name?” He asked. He didn’t stop playing. He didn’t open his eyes. His voice still carried. His gaze still fell over her. The world was still colored in light contrast.

Chloe tried to answer, but words would not leave her closed throat.

“Such a bright soul. So much love and joy for so short an existence. She felt so much like John.”

Chloe thought she had no more tears left. She was wrong.

At that moment, Lucifer finally stopped playing. He then took a deep breath, stood up and walked to his bar. He served himself a dose of whiskey. He didn’t offer her any. She was grateful. Deciding if she wanted one or not was beyond her capabilities.

“How?” Was all she asked. How did he know? How could he know?

“She came by, some hours ago. They all do, attracted by the dying light. You’ve created something truly beautiful Detective. She loved you very much.”

Chloe came here to ask him for a miracle to save her dying child.  For Lucifer, Trixie was already dead.

Chloe was already on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably before the thought registered fully. She stayed there, for a small eternity. Lucifer didn’t come near her.

When the time she ran out of air came, she looked up to see Lucifer still at the bar. One dark eye was hidden in the shadows, the other one was reflecting light in reddish hues. All the color the world had to offer.

 

_“Were you sure she was alive back then?”_

_“It’s irrelevant. B_ _ut Carver does not have anything that he could exchange for a miracle.”_

 

“Anything.” She managed the single word to squeeze from her tight chest. “Anything.” She managed to say again. The next word didn’t leave her chest, though. She barely could mouth the accompanied ‘Please’.

Lucifer closed his eyes.

“The price is really high, my dear.” He said.

“Anything.” She repeated.

Chloe could only measure time by how many of her tears fell. She didn’t want to focus on that, so time was inconsequential.

“You will know. Not believe. Believing is for those who have faith. Once you truly know, there may be no salvation for your soul.”

“Anything.” She replied.

“The cost for a life is another one.” He said.

That should have given her pause. Questions of who and when and how should have permeated her brain. Her daughter for the child of somebody else? Nonetheless, there was only one word she was fully capable of muttering.

“Anything.”

Finally, Lucifer opened his eyes. He didn’t look at her. He looked in the direction of his piano.

“What do you say, child?”

He then closed his eyes, took a deep breath and nodded.

“Mazikeen.” He said once he opened his eyes again. The glass one was emitting a strange glow.

As was the norm, once called the woman emerged from the shadows. She stopped in front of him. They talked with glances. Chloe could not fully understand what was being said, but she got the drill of it. Lucifer was final in doing something Mazikeen did not approve but could not prevent. It all seemed inconsequential, nonetheless.

She closed her eyes for a second. Just a second. When she opened them again, Lucifer was gone, and Mazikeen was kneeling in front of her.

“You’ve got yourself a miracle Decker. I do hope you know how to appreciate it.”

Mazikeen never moved from her position, but somehow the shadows engulfed her.

And Chloe was alone in the dark penthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks. I can't say how deeply sorry I am for not updating this for such a long time. I swear it was never my intention to leave you waiting in that horrible cliffhanger. And look, it seems like I did it again?
> 
>  
> 
> Nonetheless, I love you and your feedback with my whole heart. You have no idea how important and motivating it is. Thank you all for your continuous support and patience.


	14. The man upstairs

If you ask Chloe how she managed to get from Lux to the hospital, she sincerely would tell you that she didn’t know. She didn’t even know how she was managing to breathe.

Here she was, nonetheless, in the elevator that would get her to the floor where Trixie was. The world was still painted in black and white. All sound it had to offer was the beats of her heart. The floor was all quiet.

As if moving through molasses, Chloe walked from the elevator to the glass separating her from her daughter. There was a different type of pressure in the air as if gravity has decided to double, triple in the meantime. People were paralyzed in their places; ever their blinks were strangely slow. The air was frigid. The glass in front of Chloe’s fingers was covered in ash.

She tried to look around, but the only thing that could freely move in that room was her maddening beating heart. With great effort, she opened the door and stopped short.

The whole room was covered in ashes. The mobile and equipment were either destroyed or distorted as if a bomb had detonated in the room. The smell was overwhelming, like hundred of butcheries had been left to rot and then someone thought it a good idea to incinerate some. The pressure was even higher here, and all she could do to not succumb to it was frenetic looking for her child.

If you ask Chloe how she felt when she found Trixie, she will never be able to answer you.

For Trixie was peacefully sleeping in the arms of Lucifer, who was slumped on the floor, back supported by a blood covered wall. Lucifer was blindly staring ahead, eyes at half-mast, his shirtless torso also covered in blood.

But the thing that could not fully register at Chloe’s mind? At each side of him, there were giant… She was having a hard time categorizing those as wings. There were more patches of naked skin than feathers on the ginormous appendages. The visible skin either supported charred flesh or open wounds that still dripped a black substance that could very well be blood if it was not so thick. Where he did have feathers, they were lifeless and dull. Some were broken. All of them were in disarray; all of them were covered in that thick black substance.

Trixie adjusted her position against Lucifer chest, and he made a very faint move to better accommodate her. His wings twitched in answer to that move and Chloe could see some white feathers scattered in between those horrid ones. These white feathers emitted a faint glow and were tinted with hues of mother-of-pearl. These were magnificent. These were so fascinating; that they were all Chloe could focus on.

When blackness assaulted her senses and robbed her of the light of the world, these luminous feathers remained.

__________________________________

Chloe woke up to curtain-filtered sunlight bathing her face. She opened her eyes slowly, registering her surroundings. She was in her room, in her bed, surrounded by her sheets. Distantly, she could hear the characteristic opening music of Steven Universe. Trixie was probably in the leaving room watching cartoons, a bowl of cereal already in hand.

Chloe blinked the sleep from her eyes, waiting for the dream to shift into the harsh reality it was meant to be. Her room stood in place and the music remained.

It was good.

She took one more minute to let the miracle that was her life settle and then got up. She had a new day to face.

After using the bathroom and making herself presentable, she found her only child happily munching onto her bowl on cereals and milk, just as Chloe had predicted. On the TV Steven was crying over spilled ice cream. She kissed Trixie’s hair and got only a distracted ‘morning, Mummy’ as a response, but it was ok.

Everything was ok.

Not in the mood for a real breakfast, she made a cup of coffee and poured a bowl of cereal for herself. Life was good, she thought.

Too good to be real. Too good to last.

Suddenly she couldn’t stomach the cereal anymore. Even the thought of the coffee made her sick.

She had been doing her best to ignore the rifts in her world that _knowing_ had created but now she couldn’t take it any longer. It was nice to live in her bubble life, where everything was in order and _good_ , but it was just that: a bubble. She couldn’t stay there forever. She knew there was a price to be paid and she couldn’t keep running from it. She couldn’t keep running from _him_.

With her mind done, she climbed the stars.

 

One week and a day ago, she had lived the worst day of her life. One week ago though, she woke up to discover it was just a very bad, very cruel nightmare.

Because when she woke up she was in her bed, surrounded by her sheets. Trixie was peacefully sleeping in her room. There was no registry of an incident in Trixie’s school, the girl who had pushed her hadn’t even attended the previous day. In the hospital, there was no registry of either a child falling from a stair or of a destroyed room. Dan has been working the whole night and wasn’t even apologetic for foregoing picking Trixie up once again.

She could believe nothing had happened if it was not for two things: the weight of an unpaid deal she could feel on her very soul and the broken body of Lucifer Morningstar, lying statue-still on the bed of her guest room.

‘ _It is not safe anymore for him to be on his penthouse, or for your child to be parted from him. I take it that providing him shelter until he recuperates a bit will not be a great hardship?_ ’ Mazikeen has asked her when she first saw the _Devil_ lying on her bed, broken in body and in mind.

‘ _What should I do?_ ’ She asked the demon (for now she knew with certainty that Mazikeen was a demon). ‘ _What does he need me to do?_ ’

‘ _He does not need to eat. He does not need to drink. He does not need to sleep, nor does he need to be comforted. He won’t get an infection if the injuries on his back are not treated. Anything you do because you feel obligated to will hurt him more than help him. So if you don’t know what to do, just do nothing. Let him rest and he shall state his terms when he can._ _I will be observing in the shadows_.’ The demon said, just before dissolving in the shadows in the corner of the room.

Could she do it? Could she open the door and face the Devil and treat him like the man she thought she once knew? Could she ever look at him and not remember that she had promised her soul to the Devil? Let him touch her? Asked for it, even? Could she live in a world in which God’s will has been for her only daughter to be dead?  

For a whole week, she had climbed those stars intending to face the man resting on her guest room. For a whole week, she had hesitated at the door and gone back downstairs, where everything was light and happy and good.

Once again, today, she had stood in front of the door, one minute too long. Once again, today, she couldn’t face the reality shift she herself asked for. Once again, today, she turned back and went downstairs, to watch cartoons with her breathing, happy daughter.

__________________________________

One more day turned into four. And if Chloe was being honest to herself, it was not Trixie animatedly talking about the ‘woman on the shadows’, nor the idea of the actual Devil lying broken on her guest room bed upstairs that made her took that one more needed step to face him. It was not even the weight of her new reality that she couldn’t ignore anymore.

It was the smell.

 At first, it was very faint, if unpleasant. For a second, she was confused from where it was coming from. What it actually was. But then, a couple of hours after Trixie has gone to bed, after one and a half glass of red wine, she finally placed the smell. Actually, when she recognized it as the putrid smell of thousands of rotten and burned corpses she couldn’t be more dismayed by it.

Of course, it was coming from Lucifer’s room. If her musings were correct, it was actually coming from… _Him_.

She opened the door and peered inside. Both of Lucifer’s eyes instantly focused on her. The two of them were reflecting the light in a reddish hue, almost glassy in their ethereal aspect.

_Right. He never had an eye made of glass._

The smell was overwhelming inside the room.

_If I can smell it, surely he can too._

“Hey. How are you feeling?” She asked in lieu of a greeting.

He only blinked sluggishly.

And then she started to grasp it. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t afraid of knowing that there were such beings so much bigger than her as the Devil and God. Her problem, her real problem, was the way Lucifer lay brokenly on that bed. Her problem was the fact that he had big wings that were apparently dying and decomposing and that had shredded the skin on his back when he ‘manifested’ them. Ultimately, her problem was that if something so fundamentally wrong could happen to a being so grant as the Morning Star, what choice was there for meager beings as humans? What chance could be there for such small creatures like her and her daughter?

His attempt to answer her brought her back to the moment. Lucifer has tried to say something but all that he managed to do was to let out a raspy breath with a small grunt of pain.

“Can I… Do you mind if I take a look at your back? It is just… The…”

She didn’t know how to talk about the smell without addressing it. And she surely didn’t want to address it because the last thing she wanted to do was to embarrass him in any way. Fortunately, she didn’t have to finish the phrase. Lucifer just closed his eyes and murmured what Chloe understood to be a form of assent.

She got close to the bed then and moved the sheet that was covering his naked torso. Apparently, it was not only his right eye that has been bruised during the ordeal of ~~resurrecting Trixie~~ exposing his wings. Along the line of old scars over his chest, there was a new one, almost one inch large, of third-degree burn looking wounds, still oozing blood in some places. She had no doubt it went as far as his hips. At least.

Why wasn’t Mazikeen treating those? Didn’t she always cleaned and dressed the wounds before? But it was not the time to marvel at those. She was on a mission.

She tried to move him on his side as gently as she could but apparently, she wasn’t gentle enough, for when he was finally on his side he was trembling in pain. Even that small movement was too much. How agonizing would it be when she actually touched him?

But she would have to. His body and sheets were covered with that putrid and dark substance which was apparently oozing from the open gashes on his back. The skin under it was irritated and sore looking. At the very least, that couldn’t be comfortable. At the worst… She didn’t want to think about the worst.

Her cop brain took control of the situation and she started cataloging: Lucifer’s wounds were open and oozing either blood, pus or that venous looking blackish gore. What she could see of his body was covered in either ash or sweat. She could see faint tracks of body fluids on his face (tear tracks? Snot? Drool?). The obvious course of action would be to get him clean, dress the wounds and change the bedding. Surely he could rest more comfortably, then?

_He does not need to sleep, nor does he need to be comforted._

Mazikeen’s words reverberated in her mind.

_Anything you do because you feel obligated to will hurt him more than help him. So if you don’t know what to do, just do nothing._

But she couldn’t do nothing!

“Lucifer… We need to change the bedclothes and… And clean the wounds. Surely you would feel better?”

As if summoned, Mazikeen emerged from the shadows. Well, what did Chloe know? Maybe she was summoned.

The demon was silent, though. Besides her own beating heart, the only thing Chloe could hear were the small and forced breaths of the man lying beside her.

“Would it… Will a shower make him worse? I don’t want to…” Chloe started but could not finish.

“You actually want to help?” The demon asked. She didn’t wait for Chloe’s answer. “I can take him to the bathroom and change the sheets. The rest is up to you.”

Chloe nodded.

Mazikeen nodded once and went to the bed. She then proceeded to scoop Lucifer up in her arms and carried him, still wrapped around the bed sheets, to the bathroom. As Mazikeen gently deposited him on the shower’s floor, Chloe noticed that the demon was taking great care in not letting her skin touch Lucifer’s.

“Why are you not touching him?” Chloe asked.

“I don’t have a soul. My touch will hurt him when he is so weak.”

Ok. That is a can of worms that Chloe does not want to open.

“Mine won’t?” She asked instead of musing about Mazikeen’s lack of a soul.

“Naaa. Just… Do not lie to him, or to yourself. Do not let your touch lie either.”

_Anything you do because you feel obligated to will hurt him more than help him._

But what about what she wanted to do? Before she could ask, Mazikeen has blended into the shadows once more. And she was left with a mostly naked Lucifer, trembling on the floor of her bathroom.

With one fortifying sign, she undressed, removed the sheets and opened the water, as warm as she could stand. Lucifer’s skin was very cold, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no words to tell you all how thankful I am for your lovely comments. Somedays, they are all that keep me going on. Thank you!


	15. To care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> or, as promised, the first step of a massive case of pampering.  
> (yeah, first. In the sense that there may be a second. I do hope it is to your liking, Navaros).  
> (I will also do my best to include any pampering request you guys could have as long as it goes nicely with the characters and the story).

* * *

 

While Chloe slowly cleaned his body, she couldn’t shake off the idea that she was trespassing a boundary, somehow. That she was tainting something sacred, turning it into pure sacrilege.

But then again, she couldn’t shake off the wrongness of a being such the Morning Star being reduced to that… To _that_.

She wanted to ask him what really happened. She grasped that he had summoned his wings to this plane of existence and that it had wrecked his back. She could understand how the resulting wound could render him immobile – that was not the hard part. For what she has seen, the wound was extensive, deep and uncomfortably close to his spine. It was also infected, which certainly would explain why Lucifer was almost paralyzed with pain even if the wound was not supernatural in origin. What she didn’t understand was why summoning his wings had ripped his back open. She didn’t understand why he would need his wings either. For Trixie maybe? And why didn’t anybody else remember the incident? More importantly, what could have gone so wrong in the universe that his wings could look like that? And… What did she owe him now?

She was brought back to the moment by the weight of Lucifer’s gaze on her. Now, looking at his two red hued eyes, she wondered how she could ever think one of them was made of glass. How she could think it was a dead object, while it always penetrated so deep on her very soul. When it was always so alive and searching.

That it was just another scarring didn’t go unnoticed by her.

Why the scars?

_“This body is a construction, a cocoon. It’s a reflex of my real one. And like my own, its skin is fragile, vulnerable.”_

His real body… Just now she understood that maybe Lucifer’s real body was mangled beyond belief. That maybe what happened to his wings was not the worst that happened to him. That maybe… Maybe the scars were just the point of an iceberg.

That was not a freeing thought. It was also the further thing of a nice one it could be. That condition was frightening as it was. That someone would get progressively disfigured to the point of curtaining all social interactions was a horrible destiny. That it was just one side effect of something worse… She didn’t want to think about it.

_“It’s nothing for you to concern yourself about, though. It is a quite old condition, I knew the scars were going to happen, there is no known cure and I’ve come to terms with it already. As I keep repeating, it is not contagious. It’s just… It’s just unfortunate, I guess.”_

Quite old. He was the Devil. He was the Morning Star. By all accounts, he was probably older than the stars. How old a condition must be for him to categorize it as ‘quite old’?

Where the weight of Lucifer’s gaze had been able to bring her back to now and here, his uncoordinated attempt to move grounded her. When she looked down, he was struggling to breathe. In a flash of brilliance, she understood that he was about to vomit. She did what she could to direct him away from her and near the drain, but she needn’t have worried. He didn’t have anything in his stomach to expel. Not even bile, it seemed. He was just probably in so much pain that he was nauseated. Whatever happened to him, whatever would happen in the future, he was hurting now. He was also crumbled in between the floor and the far wall, in a position that simply could not be comfortable considering the state of his back.

Okay. First things first. She needed to get him clean. Then she needed to get him back to bed. Once there she could dress the wounds she could actually do something about.

With renewed determination, she reached for her shampoo bottle. She remembered something Mazikeen said about not pulling the hairs on the side of his head and not touching his upper back, but all of that seemed moot now. Nonetheless, she tried to be as gentle as she could while massaging the shampoo through his wet strands and into his scalp. When she got the headset and adjusted it to rinse his hair, he kept his reddish eyes wide open and fixated on her. She was more than a little amused when she had to put one hand over his brow to avoid getting shampoo into his eyes. Would it even hurt?

But then the next logical step was to wash his face and that would prove to be a bit difficult if he insisted on keeping his eyes open. The solution was so simple, though, that she almost facepalmed when it occurred to her.

She simply asked him to close his eyes, and he did. He didn’t open then again while she gently scrubbed at his neck, chest, and arms with a lathered washcloth. He didn’t even react when she got to his hips, or when she touched his groin, or when she cleaned his leg and feet. The first reaction she got from him came when she touched his hands.

When she got his right hand in between hers, it switched, as if trying to curl around her fingers. But it was so weak that it was almost a reflex for her to kiss his palm. Lucifer sighed at the touch and then opened his eyes. His gaze was magnetic and Chloe could not resist looking back at his face.

His eyes were terrifying

His scars were heartbreaking.

He was beautiful.

She blinked back tears. He was not only beautiful. He was something more. And that was tainted but made more beautiful for it somehow.

She moved from his hand to his upper arm and sensed tense muscles. As weak as he was, he still must be doing a lot of effort to hold still. Half-formed ideas of massaging him permeated her mind but she didn’t give them much substance. She didn’t know yet how that may aggravate his skin (or his real body), and she certainly did not know if that was something he would enjoy. She was also approaching her last task, that was washing that foul grime from his back, and she was certain that that would not be a good experience to either of them.

With Lucifer so weak, the best she could do was to get him to sit up a bit and then lay sprawled over her lap, with his face almost smashed against her stomach. The position was awkward but it did give her access to his back. With a deep breath, she lathered her hands and started to gently caress the wounds, rinsing it occasionally and then repeating the process. Lucifer would whimper softly against her skin, one time breathing harshly like he would throw up, but that was the most of it.

After the fifth circle of lathering and rinsing, she found it best to stop. The wound was still weeping a little of that dark pus-like substance along with a small bit of blood, but she didn’t think that cleaning it with soap and water was going to solve anything. She could also try to clean it better while dressing it. When he was dry and comfortable and not whimpering against her naked belly.

With that solved in her mind, she gently adjusted his position against her torso so she could rise to her knees and turn the water off. Just when she was considering getting up to pick the towel hanging near the shower curtains, Mazikeen opened the bathroom doors, letting a chilly breeze come from outside.

“Finished yet?”

“Yeah. Could you close the door? And lend me that towel?”

Mazikeen did just that, sneering the whole way.

At this point, Chloe didn’t even mind.

She dried firstly Lucifer’s hair and then his body. When she was satisfied he was not going to soak his sheets anymore, she gently placed the towel around his shoulders, suspecting the warmth would be more reassuring than covering his nudity. She highly doubted Lucifer had any problem with exposing his more intimate bits at this point.

Drying herself and putting her clothes back was almost an afterthought, but necessary nonetheless.

Once dressed (in her softest pajamas, she was glad to notice) she went back to Lucifer, still naked and slumped against the wall.

“Can you take him back to bed?” She asked Mazikeen.

“Yeah. But I still can’t touch his skin directly. Let’s wrap him in more towels so I can pick him up.”

And that’s how Chloe wasted three perfect clean towels.

She could almost sob in relief when Lucifer was once again settled in her guest bed, now against clean bed sheets that Chloe was absolutely sure she didn’t own. She could bet they were from the penthouse at Lux.

She was also actually glad when she noticed that she now had extra towels at her disposal because his back was still oozing that foul mixture of putrid gore and fresh blood.

With a deep breath, she positioned one towel on the bed and rolled him over it on his stomach, so she could work on his back. The next minutes were a monotonous process to spread hydrogen peroxide on the wounds, observe it frizz and wipe it back.

Lucifer was so still he was barely breathing underneath her touch.

After some minutes of that, when she was almost giving up, she noticed that the wounds had stopped oozing that foul grime, weeping a clear liquid instead.

“Would it be ok to put some antiseptic ointment on these?” She asked Mazikeen, but the demon was not in the bedroom anymore.

Just then Lucifer’s raspy voice murmured something that sounded suspiciously like ‘beeh’. After some seconds of confusion, Chloe understood that he might have meant ‘bag’. Well, Mazikeen did bring some bags with what Chloe presumed were Lucifer’s things. Well, it looked like she has just given permission to pry.

In the first one, she found clothes: dark jeans, shirts and the like. Well, that was important, she presumed, but she didn’t think Lucifer would need those any time soon. She was half tempted to look for underwear and pajamas but dismissed the thought. She really doubted that he would be more comfortable clothed than naked and she had some practical aspects to consider, like jostling him and easy access in case… In case.

The next bag revealed an assortment of toiletries. Shampoo, shower gel, deodorant… Nothing quite useful right now. She was pretty sure Mazikeen said something about ointment at some point in their acquaintance.

The third bag, however, appeared to be a medical kit. It contained bandages, gauze, that weak type of tape that would secure the dressings but not fully adhere to the skin, and, more importantly, ointment. Many bottles of ointment in different languages that Chloe could not understand.

Helpless, she had one moment of panic in which she considered to call Mazikeen and keep calling until the woman emerged from whenever she went to inside the shadows, but then she felt the weight of Lucifer’s eyes looking at her.

Unblinking reddish eyes.

“Lucifer… Can you help me? One blink for ‘no’, two for ‘eyes’?”’

He blinked twice.

She raised each bottle until he blinked his way in telling her which one to use on his back. The touch of ointment on his skin was cold and he flinched weakly under it but didn’t otherwise react. She spread the clear gel on his wounds as gently as she could. Next, she dressed the wounds and then turned him on his side, to work on the wounds on his torso. These were considerably easier to clean and dress.

When he finished she covered him with the comforter and looked at her handiwork. His hair was mused and his face was half smashed against a pillow. His eyes were closed. With the comforter covering the majority of his body and his left side against the mattress, it was easy to picture how he had looked when his skin was whole. How he would look if he was just a normal man, relaxing in bed. Not quite asleep yet, but going there.

She had one fleeting moment to mourn the impossibility of that scenario before shaking her head. Had Lucifer being just a normal man, it wouldn’t be in her bed he would be relaxing.

She didn’t stop to think about what it meant that a fallen archangel had chosen her bed to convalesce, though. That was too complicated a thought for three in the morning.

With a last glance, she collected the used towels and packaged and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys give me strength. Thank you.


	16. Like petals on a dying rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which many revelations were made and the author still doesn't understand why Lucifer decided to spill the beans now.
> 
> (Yeah, he was not supposed to do that, but he insisted).

Today was the first day Trixie was going back to school. Being quite sincere, Chloe wasn’t sure if Trixie should go. But then again, what did she know?

Well, she did know a lot of things, actually. She knew that the bully girl have been given a few days leave from school because she had a PTSD episode, apparently without any discernible reason besides being having nightmares. She also knew that Trixie was not at all confused about being asked to stay some days at home. She also was quite comfortable with the idea of a ‘woman in the shadows’ and every now and then the girl would look longing at the door of Chloe’s guest room. What Chloe did not know was if Trixie _remembered_ anything about the incident. Well, the girl had resumed eating normally and was quite happy to go back to school, but there was some serenity in her demeanor that wasn’t there before and was just creepy to see in a seven-year-old. It was not like she _felt_ like a different person, but it was a hard thought to shake when you knew that you got your daughter’s life back because you’ve made a deal with the Devil. Worse yet, when the only being with whom you could talk about it was a demon sulking in the shadows of your furniture or the Devil convalescing in your guest room bed. Speaking of which…

Chloe, who was in the process of brewing a cup of coffee while she finished checking her daughter’s bag, just decided to brew one more cup. Caffeinated ash, he has said. Did that mean that even though he could not properly taste it, that it would affect his body as expected? Would water help to soothe his parched throat? Would painkillers help in any way?

“Mommy, I’m ready to go,” Trixie said, just as a honk was heard from the street.

That must be Ann’s mother, who was going to give Trixie a ride to school today.

“Are you sure you want to go, Monkey? Don’t you want me to take you to school?” She asked one more time, just to be sure.

“It’s ok mommy. The bad guys are afraid of the light.”

Huh?

In Chloe’s moment of confusion, Trixie retrieved her bag from the table and rushed to the door.

“Bye Monkey! Love you!” Chloe shouted after her daughter but received no indication that the girl has even heard her.

Well, it would look like she indeed had someone more to ask, after all. What reminded her that her coffee was probably ready and so was Lucifer’s.

She took a fortifying gulp and arranged a small tray with the two cups of coffee, one glass of water, one of orange juice for good measure (unfortunately, the box kind), and the bottles of analgesics her mother was prescribed last year when she fell and broke her pelvis, therefore being in Chloe’s care for some months, when Chloe confiscated the bottle. Because, really, her mother was hypochondriac enough when healthy to have that type of medicine that she didn’t need anymore, no matter how much she complied during physiotherapy. Well, had Lucifer being human, she would be quite sure he would need that now. Maybe something stronger.

She didn’t have anything stronger. She was half convinced that either Lucifer or Mazikeen had the means to acquire legal but controlled drugs by not so legal or controlled means if necessary when she arrived at his door.

Just as she was going to knock on it, Mazikeen emerged from the shadows.

“Jesus!” Chloe exclaimed while she tried to maintain everything on her tray.

“Not who you think he was.” The demon replied.

Right. Because Jesus was real. Great.

Chloe had just finishing securing the beverages on the tray when she noticed Mazikeen’s very close to hers.

“I don’t get it. Your humans are usually terrified after discovering the truth about him. You are voluntarily trying to help. Why?”

Why? Why?

“He saved Trixie’s life. How can I let him suffer? To not at least try to repay him?”

“Don’t fool yourself, human. Payment will come regardless of what you do or don’t do now.”

Ok, bad choice of words. Wait… What did she mean with ‘regardless of what you do or don’t do now’?

Chloe was just going to ask when suddenly Mazikeen wasn’t there anymore. This coming and going through shadows was certainly going to give Chloe a headache. Well, if knowing the Devil is bed ridden at _her_ bed doesn’t explode her head first, that is. Thinking on the Devil…

Chloe knocked twice before opening the door. His red eyes were open and already tracking her entrance in the room.

“Good morning. I… I didn’t know if you’d want anything but… I brought you something to drink and… And painkillers, if you want to try some?”

Lucifer kept looking at her.

“I’ve got coffee and water and orange juice. It’s processed but if you want I think we’ve got some oranges downstairs… I could squeeze some?”

Lucifer was still looking at her.

She was beginning to berate herself (he didn’t need to drink anything! He probably couldn’t even tell her off and she was here asking him if he wanted ash-flavored drinks and…) when he closed his eyes and slowly, so very slowly, rolled around so he was on his back on the mattress.

“Water would be… Lovely.” He said in a low and raspy voice.

Oh. Oh! Okay.

She pondered for a moment how to do this and concluded that it was best to try to elevate his upper body a bit to avoid him choking on water. Could the Devil die if he choked? Drown in a glass of water? Ok, maybe she was being a bit hysterical.

Assuming once again control of herself, she deposited the tray on the nightstand and proceeded to help him to sit up so she could pile some pillows on his back. He winced during the motions but did not otherwise complain, so she hoped that he was better. She would ask to check later.

She took the glass with water but when he tried to take it from her his hands were so shaky that she very much doubted he would be able to hold it.

“Do you mind if I…”

And before she could finish the phrase, even before having some kind of permission from him, she was already pressing the rim against his lips and tilting the glass so he could take a small sip.

Slowly, constantly, he eventually drank the whole thing. He sighed after she took the glass away and to Chloe, it looked like it was the better thing he has ever drunk. Maybe it was?

“Do you want me to get more?” She asked.

Lucifer closed his eyes and made a very tiny ‘no’ with his head.

He looked tired. If he was a human being, Chloe would have thought that the simple act of drinking a glass of water had exhausted him and would leave him to rest.

But he was not a human being and Chloe didn’t know what to do.

“Mazikeen told me you don’t need any of this. No sleep, no water, no food. I.. I was wondering that not needing isn’t the same as not wanting so… If there’s something you want?”

“Drinks and food usually taste like ash so I do not partake unless there is some additional benefit. I can get buzzed, so I drink. I can feel the effects of caffeine, so coffee. Usually, I get everything I need from my divinity”. He said with his eyes still closed. His voice was a lot stronger.

She didn’t miss one key aspect of what he just said.

“Usually?”

“There is not much left.” He said.

Was he saying that…

“What… What does that mean?”

“An angel is sustained by divine love. Dad does not… He does not love me anymore. I’ve got what I’ve got and it is… I’m running out of it. I mean… I think it would be possible for me to be sustained by Earthly food but… Even food is an expression of God’s love, so here we are.”

She was trying so hard to understand what he was saying that she was rendered temporarily mute. The silence must have stretched too long because he then opened his red eyes to look at her.

“Dad gave them to you so you’d always know. Food, warmth, comfort. When I fell I lost this. I’m always thirsty, always hungry, always too cold to sleep. After the first centuries trying to satiate it, I gave up.”

“But… But you said that you could taste it on others?” She asked not knowing why that detail was so important.

“I… There is a bit of Dad’s love in every soul. So when you made me a sandwich out of… When someone who loved you made a coffee for someone they thought you cared about, there was enough of Dad’s love in it for me to feel. The rest of the time it’s more… It’s more like an aftertaste.”

And suddenly, Chloe understood. That was why he would go so far to pleasure his partners and ignore himself: because it was an aftertaste of their desire, of their pleasure, the only thing he could have. That’s why he would prepare a full breakfast for them after, on the hope to get a sniff of a true delight. So he could try to experience the world though the perception of the others.

But she was certain it was different the day she prepared him that sandwich. If her care was enough to inspire flavor, why…

“Why does it not work with Mazikeen?”

“Didn’t she tell you? She does not have a soul.”

She had. But then again, a girl could be excused for forgetting.

“So… It helps right? I mean, is it okay if I bring you food and something to drink? Regularly, I mean.”

He nodded.

“And you’d be able to get sustain out of it? Recover?”

He closed his eyes again.

“It may help me to recover faster, yes. But… I’m too far gone already. For the other bit.”

“The other bit?”

“I’m dying Chloe.”

She couldn’t process that. She refused to process that.

“You saw my wings. My feathers are wasting and falling. For each one, new scars blossom on this cocoon. And when the last one falls… Then there will be nothing left.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you very much for your support. You're my strength.


End file.
